Eye Of The Storm
by DZ2
Summary: Answer to YugiohFreak54's Challenge: Losing Sirius hit Harry hard; so hard that he attempts to run away, but is stopped by a summons to his destiny: a summons from Gringotts and DARTH REVAN; now commanding the Force, can Harry get some answers? H/Hr
1. Episode 1

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

**Plot: **Answer to YugiohFreak54's HP/KOTOR Challenge: The loss of Sirius, just when he thought he had a family, is something that hits Harry hard; so hard, in fact that, on his 14th birthday, he receives a gift from someone simply calling themselves Revan. Through Revan's gift, Harry acquires a control over the power of the Force and decides that the time for the 'nice guy' Harry Potter needs to come to an end.

**Dedication: **I would like to dedicate this story to YugiohFreak54, MariusDarkwolf, StormyFireDragon and all the others who read and enjoy every piece of work I print; without your kind words, advice and friendship, I would have never continued on the site;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

Episode 1: The Gifts Of Grief

Sirius was dead…

Harry had failed him…

He had failed to avenge the betrayal of his parents…

He had failed to stop the Dementors when it mattered most…

And the strange thing was, no matter which way Harry looked at it, there was only one name on the list that he could blame: Albus Dumbledore!

It was true: if Dumbledore had asked Remus to train Harry from the get-go, then he could have perfected his Patronus and saved Sirius; if Dumbledore had warned Harry about Severus Snape's misinformed sense of justice and jealousy towards the Marauders, then Sirius would still be alive…hell, if Snape had even _bothered_ to remember to warn Remus about the Wolfsbane Potion, then Sirius would be safe _and_ alive.

But no: the old man _hadn't_ helped Harry; he _hadn't_ tried to do all in his greatness to save the man's life; he _hadn't_ protected the school or those within her from a whole horde of Dementors and then, when Harry needed friendly company and the welcome embrace of others to keep him happy and to help him get over the loss of family, all that Dumbledore had said was, "Harry needs to return to Privet Drive: it's where he is safest."

"Old fool," growled Harry, lying on his back, the soft ticking of the clock next to his bed being enough for him to keep on his train of thought, now counting down the seconds to midnight, to the moment that he turned fourteen, the moment that he had planned for so long.

To run away from Privet Drive and head straight for the Alleys, but, because he didn't know whether or not Dumbledore's twisted mind would be watching him, Harry had made plans to travel not to Diagon Alley, but to Knockturn Alley and to stay there until September First.

The beeping of his bedside clock was the first sign for Harry that the coast was clear; sliding out of bed, he stood up and walked over to Hedwig's cage, where his faithful owl seemed to sense her master's presence; opening her large bronze eyes, Harry gently ran his hand along her feathered breast as he whispered, "Three days girl, then come and find me."

Hedwig hooted in reply, but, before Harry could move another step, he was stopped by the arrival of another owl; a large black-feathered owl with crimson-tipped feathers that ran along its wings and a pair of sharp talons that looked like they could shred a man in two.

Taking the letter that this owl was carrying, Harry opened it and was surprised to find that the letter had come from Gringotts Bank: this was a first for him as the only post he ever received was from his friends; with feverish motions, Harry ripped open the letter and read the information within, not really one for having time for this:

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_May we from Gringotts be the first to wish you many happy returns on the anniversary of your birth;_

_Now that is done, I must insist on a meeting with your good self as soon as humanly possible; the fact that this letter has been issued at midnight is trouble enough, but I fear that, if I were to wait until morning, it would be too late._

_That is why this letter is doubled up as a portkey; to activate the key, simply say _Fortuna_ and you will be brought to my direct office where I will answer everything for you;_

_Awaiting your arrival Mr Potter;_

_Ragnok Silverbane_

_Grand High Master of Gringotts_

Harry stared at the letter with a mix of shock and bewilderment: the master of Gringotts wanted to meet with him?

At midnight?

On the day of his birthday?

Was this some kind of a joke?

As he thought the last point, Harry then realised something: you didn't get to be master of a whole nation by lying or making jokes, particularly not when it seemed of vital importance that you met with a client like Harry; no, whatever Ragnok wanted was both official and genuine and, even though he didn't want anyone knowing he was going to do a runner, Harry found himself knowing it would be common courtesy to meet with him.

Holding the letter, Harry then had an epiphany; reaching to his desk, he withdrew his wand and held it in his hand, a smile on his face as he thought about the _other_ reason he was making a run for it: Voldemort. This wand was the brother of Voldemort's and, clearly, it was important that he keep a hold of it, almost as important that he didn't leave Privet Drive or ever acknowledge the truth that he was never going to see Sirius again.

"Sorry," Whispered Harry, his emerald eyes now like two flames in his face, "But I'm through playing by the rules: he wants me…"

He took the other end of his wand in his left hand before, with a mighty crack, Harry broke the holly and phoenix-feather wand across his own knee, splinters and shards of wood and core material flying everywhere.

"…He can come and get me," Harry finished, tossing the broken pieces to the floor before he cried out, "Fortuna!"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Ragnok Silverbane was a well-respected goblin and a being who knew the price paid for grief and loss: he knew that it would be almost foolish to contact the grieving future Lord Potter, but he would also know that, as the leader of his people, Ragnok bore the responsibility of sometimes making things worse than they first appeared.

In the case of Lord Potter, things were going to get worse and, as the wards around his office were triggered, signalling Lord Potter's arrival, Ragnok compared the emotions that he could feel from the young teen as being in the proverbial eye of the storm; the young teen before him was showing common courtesy simply because he was required to as a matter of honour. He even bowed to Ragnok before moving to take a seat opposite the Master of Gringotts, his voice firm, but polite as he asked, "You wished to see me Lord Ragnok?"

"Indeed I did Lord Potter," Ragnok remarked, before he calmed himself as he added, "If I may, my Lord, would you prefer to use my name rather than all this Lord business? I summoned you here as an act of parley, not for any trouble or misdemeanour, so, if you will allow me the honour of using your name, then you may use mine."

"Very well Ragnok," Harry replied firmly, his emerald green eyes showing Ragnok just how much pain the young wizard was feeling; a part of the goblin master actually wondered if the boy had shed any tears for the loss he had suffered.

"Thank you Harry," Ragnok remarked, his eyes on Harry as he continued, "As you may, or may not, be aware Harry, as the last member of your family, you are now legally entitled to claim your full family's Lordship and be officially emancipated as an adult in the wizarding world."

"I was not aware of such a thing," Harry told him, "But I am thankful for you pointing this out: are you saying that you summoned me to emancipate me?"

"More than that Harry," Ragnok answered, "I have…a friend of your family who would like to meet you in person as what he has to say shall affect your emancipation and change your very future."

"Very well," Harry nodded, before his eyes darkened as he asked, "But why did you wish this meeting at midnight? Why would the morning be too late?"

"I think it best that my friend explain things," Ragnok explained, before he reached under his desk and pulled out what appeared to be a silver pyramid with mysterious runes decorated across its base. Pushing the pyramid towards Harry, Ragnok then retrieved a silver dagger, which he also gave to Harry as he added, "Now Harry, if you could offer a drop of your blood, all can be explained."

"Very well," Harry nodded, his voice showing the anger he was still feeling, "But if this is a trick Ragnok, I will leave and take my fortunes with me."

Ragnok bowed his head in acknowledgement as Harry pricked his right index finger with the dagger, a small drop of blood splashing onto the tip of the pyramid, causing a dim, but powerful-looking red light to suddenly ignite at the tip of the pyramid, before the light rose from the tip, like a beacon from a lighthouse and, as Harry watched, the light seemed to spread out, forming a red triangle that displayed a strange image within its blood-coloured energy; the occupant of the light was dressed in a suit of mysterious black armour that seemed to cover most of his body; a long black cloak seemed to billow out from behind the armour in a style similar to Severus Snape and, as Harry looked, he then saw a cowl hiding a masked face that was decorated with a mysterious red symbol.

"Ah Ragnok," the figure spoke up, his voice deep and strangely distorted, "I see you have found the one I seek: tell me child, what is your name?"

"Harry James Potter," replied the young wizard, "Who the hell are you?"

"Hm," the figure remarked, his voice suggesting amusement as he added, "I sense power; yes, you are the chosen one; as to who the hell I am, you may call me Revan and I, Harry Potter, have searched the known dimensions looking for you."

"Me?" asked Harry, slightly startled by this mysterious masked man, "What could make me so important?"

"You have power," Revan explained, "And, unless I am very much mistaken, you are the descendant of the one known as Godric Gryffindor, are you not?"

"I…I'm not sure," Harry answered, his enraged look now replaced by a look of confusion, "I mean, his sword came to me when I needed it, but people suggest that I could be the Heir of Salazar Slytherin because I speak Parseltongue."

"It's him," Revan remarked, his masked face now filling the light as he addressed Harry, "This spiritual communication is all that is needed for this meeting: you see Harry, you are more powerful than you give yourself credit for and, if you let me help you, I can grant you the power to make the very ground tremble beneath your feet."

"And why would I want that?" asked Harry.

"You seek to avenge the death of a fallen one, do you not?" asked Revan.

Harry's eyes widened with rage, his nostrils flared and, unbeknownst to him, his eyes actually changed colour: what once was emerald green was now a pair of cold, yellow eyes that could only be described as one word: evil!

"So you do," Revan continued, "And from what I see in you Harry, it is clear to me that you would welcome the means to use this power, am I right?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, his rage spiking as he spoke to Revan, "But what does some masked fool like you have to do with that? There's nothing I can do against those who I wish revenge upon."

"What if I told you that there was?"

Revan's question had Harry slightly startled; taking as many deep breaths as he could manage, Harry leaned forwards, his eyes still the same cold, yellow glow as he asked, "How?"

"Like I told you," Revan answered, "You have power and strengths that you have not yet discovered; it's there inside you Harry, buried deep beneath the weak child that your enemies would see you portrayed as. Given that you are the Heir of Godric and Salazar, it now means that you can awaken that power, but, if you do, there is no going back and you will change yourself in every way possible."

"What is this power?" asked Harry, before a cold smile crossed his face as he asked, "And how do I awaken it?"

"This power," answered Revan, "Is the power of the Force and, to awaken it, you need to listen to what I have to tell you, for the process is long and, if done wrong, extremely painful."

Pushing his chair back, Harry locked eyes with the strange man in the red light, his eyes still set on yellow and evil as he looked from Revan to Ragnok, his face still curled into that sneering grin as he asked, "Is this what you meant by too late Ragnok?"

"It is my lord," Ragnok answered, "I seek to help you awaken the power and am honoured to serve you as and when you require my assistance."

"I see," Harry smiled, "And by morning, you were afraid that those who would harm me would have their hands on me, yes?"

"Yes," Revan answered, "So, my young student; my apprentice, what say you?"

Still grinning, though now he seemed to be glowing at the same time, Harry swept his arm over his head and, in one swift motion, kneeled before the illuminated figure, his voice now tinged with an evil tone as he replied, "Tell me what I must do, my Master."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Hermione Granger was having the worst night's sleep of her young life; every time she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but replay that image in her mind:

She and Harry by the lake thanks to the Time Turner, Harry watching and waiting for the miracle that was his supposed _Dad_ to come and save the past him and Sirius from the horde of Dementors; then, he would whisper, "Not my dad…me!"

Hermione tried to stop him, but, rather than go to the lake, Harry went for his wand only to find that it wasn't there: somehow, someway, his wand had been taken from him, despite everything they had done and now, with past Harry's screams in their ears, she and Harry watched as someone else, another hidden figure sent the Dementors away, but it was too little, too late.

Sirius was dead, killed by the soul-sucking influence of the Dementors; then, in her dream, Harry would turn and he would ask her, "Is this how you repay me for saving your life?"

Then, in a fashion similar to Harry, Hermione saw a flash of green and woke with sweat trailing down her; however, when she awoke after midnight, it surprised Hermione that she wasn't alone. There was someone else standing in her room, their face hidden by the shadows of the room; at first, Hermione considered going for her wand, but, as she did, a female voice warned her, "Don't do that if you wish to help him."

"What?" whispered Hermione, watching as the figure stepped forwards, revealing a woman dressed in a set of unusual black robes; her face was deathly pale and her eyes were a dark, but still cold shade of yellow that bore into Hermione's own heart as she stared at the young witch. At her side was a mysterious cylindrical object that hung from her belt like some kind of good luck charm.

The woman had dark brown hair that seemed to be tinged with a streak of white hair that crossed her fringe and, as she looked at Hermione, she spoke again, "I won't harm you Miss Granger, but if you wish to help the one who haunts your dreams, you would be wise to listen to what I have to tell you."

'The one who haunts my dreams?' asked Hermione, 'Can she mean Harry? But why would Harry need my help after I failed him? Oh no…unless he chose to…but he wouldn't, would he?'

As she thought about the raven-haired hero of Gryffindor, Hermione felt her face heat up and her heart racing with a sense of excitement and sorrow coupled with emotions that she had only recently begun to understand; on the other hand, she was Hermione Granger and what would someone like Harry want with a buck-toothed know-it-all like her?

What would he see in her?

"Do you want my help?" asked the woman, "Like he will need yours."

"Who are you?" asked Hermione, before she lowered her eyes and asked, "And how can I help?"

The woman seemed to smile, before she sat by Hermione and took her hands, her yellowed eyes staring deep into the young Gryffindor as she explained, "My name is Bastila Shan and I am what you would call a ghost of my former self and, if you want to help, then you must do what someone of your House would never do."

"Which is what?" asked Hermione, slightly mesmerised by Bastila's gaze.

"Embrace the darkness within," replied Bastila, her eyes now looking into the very core of Hermione's heart as she added, "If not for anything else, then you will do it…for him."

'Yes,' thought Hermione, a strange feeling of acceptance running through her, 'For Harry.'

"What must I do?" asked Hermione, watching as Bastila seemed to remain there, holding onto Hermione's hands as she spoke up.

"Just relax," Bastila informed her, "And do exactly as I tell you to do."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry, following the instructions of his new master, followed Ragnok towards one of the many roller-coaster like tracks that led down into Gringotts' underbelly; this one, however, didn't spin them around or leave a really queasy feeling inside him; instead, this ride just plummeted straight down and took both Harry and Ragnok deep into the bowels of the earth, the only indication that they were still inside Gringotts being the fact that there were the odd doors to what must have been very important vaults.

Down and down they journeyed, until the cart evened out and began spiralling downwards, reaching the furthest level of the depths as Ragnok turned to Harry, his gaze slightly lower than it had been when Harry had first met him. Clearly this was meant as a sign of respect as Ragnok explained, "This is quite possibly one of the oldest vaults in the bank, my Lord and, given that you are his heir, it must fall to you to open it."

"How do I do that?" asked Harry, clambering out of the cart onto what appeared to be a very gravelly ground; Ragnok climbed out behind him and indicated the tunnel in front of them. As Harry followed the tunnel, the mysterious gravel beneath their feet began to get more uneven until, as if waiting for the inevitable, Harry tripped over something large and fell to the ground, his eyes looking not at a gravelly ground, but at a real human skull, the bone carved into as if it had been…

'Crunched,' thought Harry, standing up and, turning to Ragnok, Harry asked, "What's down here?"

"The Protector," Ragnok answered, gesturing ahead, "One whom only the Heir of Slytherin can tame."

'A snake,' thought Harry, before he shook his head as a much more logical thought came to mind, 'No: a _dragon_, but what kind of dragon would need _this_ much feed?'

As if to answer his question, a loud, powerful shriek then echoed through the tunnel, Harry holding onto his ears while Ragnok seemed unaffected; it was like the sound was drilling into his own skull and, as he listened to the sound, Harry found his mind being ravaged by a powerful wave of mental attacks; after a short while, however, Harry just felt his mind being lightened from the attack and, as he looked around, he couldn't help but ask, "What the fuck was _that?_"

{That,} answered a cold voice in his mind, {Was the Protector, my young apprentice: I should have warded your mind from its cry, but do not worry, for it cannot harm you now.}

{Thank you Master,} Harry replied, grateful for what Revan had done to him back in the office; shortly after Harry had kneeled, the red image of Revan had vanished and the light had seemingly spread from the tip and locked onto the centre of his skull, like he was being hit by a sniper; after that, Revan had spoken from within Harry's mind and told him that he would be here for the time that Harry's mind, body and magic would adjust to the powers of the Force.

Moving on ahead, Harry finally emerged from the tunnel, but, when he looked up, he gave a very audible gasp and actually felt every emotion from that morning coalesce into one that he could describe in just four letters: F-E-A-R!

Looming over Harry's head was indeed a dragon, but this dragon was the size of two Knight Buses parked on top of one another, its long body seemingly able to stretch all across Privet Drive and still have room for its tail; it was covered in midnight-blue scales with a long streak of black along its belly, its eyes were a deep, almost hungry shade of red and, as it stared at Harry, the dragon opened its jaws, revealing rows of sharp, meat-hungry teeth that looked like they could tear Harry to shreds.

{Remember,} Revan whispered, {Only the Heir of Slytherin can tame him.}

{Yes Master,} Harry replied, before he closed his eyes and tried to visualise everything he had done the last time he had spoken Parseltongue; then again, he didn't have a Godzilla-sized dragon to worry about.

Opening his eyes, Harry raised his head and addressed the beast, his voice more like deep-throated growls and the moans of a dragon than the hissing of a snake. /Dragon, creature of legend and defender of Revan: I, the Heir of Slytherin, have been recognised as a child of your Master and order you to let me pass!/

'Please?' added Harry in thought, watching as the large dragon seemed to be startled by this speaker; lowering its head, the dragon puffed at Harry before it extended a long, thin tongue and seemed to taste the air, before, at long last, it stepped aside and bowed its head to Harry.

/Master,/ hissed the beast, /I beg forgiveness for my shame: the caverns of my first master are yours to explore as you wish./

With a nod of thanks, Harry stepped past the beast, watching as its massive bulk seemed to reveal an entrance to a cavern, the dragon's flesh evidently doing more than protecting its nest as Harry walked past the spiked tail of the dragon and stepped into the cavern, his eyes exploring the area around them as Ragnok followed behind.

"Okay," Harry whispered, looking back to the beast that was now cowering near the entrance, its vicious bull of an attitude replaced with a scared puppy, "What the hell was that?"

{A Krayt Dragon, my apprentice,} answered Revan, Harry looking from the beast to the caverns, {It comes from my realm and has been here since the days of Salazar and Godric: as long as you speak the sacred language, the beast cannot and will not harm you.}

{I understand Master,} Harry replied, watching as the cavern lit up around them, revealing a full array of treasures, mannequins that were dressed in different suits of armour and mysterious robes, piles of wizarding gold and treasure that would have any tomb raider hungry for more; the weirdest sight, however, was the mechanical thing standing in the centre of the room, its body rusted by time, but still clearly working and, as Harry approached it, something in him clicked as a pair of red eyes in the robot's head seemed to flicker and flash as if it was blinking.

Then, as Harry stared, the robot addressed him, "_Statement: Master! Such pleasures to see you alive after all these years, providing my receptors are not off focus; how may I serve you?_"

"What the…" Harry gasped, but once again, Revan came to his rescue.

{Harry, allow me to introduce your battle droid, personal servant and all-round most loyal of your followers, HK-47: now, command him to give you my armour.}

"As you wish," Harry replied, before he looked at HK-47 and, in as much of a commanding voice as he could muster, ordered, "HK-47, I order you to present me with my armour!"

"_Obedient Answer: As you wish Master; it is such a true privilege to see the Sire of Lord Revan alive and well. Request: if my master would shut off his optical senses, I will provide him with his armour at once._"

{He means close your eyes,} Revan informed him, {Don't mind him Harry; he's a little…different, but he is extremely loyal.}

Harry heaved a sigh, before he did as his master requested; however, as he did, HK-47 returned with a strange suit of armour similar to the one worn by Revan and, as Harry stood there, he felt his mind being pulled not away from the caverns, but into the armour.

{Master,} he cried, {What is happening?}

{I am going to show you the truth,} Revan answered, {About who and what you are and how you will help bring the Dark Side back to this world: relax, my young apprentice, it will not hurt.}

Deciding it would be better to obey, Harry calmed his mind as he felt HK placing the armour over his body, the mind and consciousness of Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith showing Harry the full story.

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry felt himself drifting through a variety of colours and could hear something distant. It sounded like a hum and clash of swords but…as he tried to find them…they faded away. The colours solidified themselves until Harry saw that he was standing in a…

"A tomb! But what's going on here!" Harry asked aloud.

"Most curious…"A voice said very near from Harry.

Harry spun around and came face to face with the armor and masked man.

"Master Revan!" Harry breathed before he bowed low.

Revan walked past Harry…actually, he walked through him! This made Harry gasp in shock and stood up. He quickly faced the man he had only met in Hologram form as he read a tablet of sorts.

"According to this stone tablet…it foretells of my war with the Republic and…most interesting." Revan mumbled as he continued to pour over the tablet.

Harry looked through the man's chest and his eyes widened as was able to read the text so very easily.

The tome spoke of one thing and one thing only; the downfall of Darth Revan!

Harry read on eager for knowledge; The tome had spoken about the betrayal of his ancestor's current apprentice and of how the Sith would be placed under the rule of the new Lord Malak while Revan became a puppet of the Jedi Masters and then became infatuated with the one Jedi whose blood Revan wanted to stain his lightsabre: Bastila, the female officer of the Republic whose Battle Meditation was rumored to be the turning point in this war.

From reading that tablet, Harry watched as Revan had insisted on learning more and, from the instructions and descriptions in other such tablets located across the galaxy – the majority of them on Korriban, Nar Shadaa and Malachor – he had learned that, one day, the power that Jedi and Sith called the Force would be warped and diluted into a weaker form of its former glory and called magic.

Harry saw that this didn't please Revan and watched as the man vowed to persevere the majesty of his empire. The boy could only watch as his master walked away from the tablets and leave the Graveyard of dead memories.

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry soon found himself on a different place but saw that it too had Revan who was began spreading blood around his feet, his crimson-edged lightsabre following the blood trail as if to brand it into the deck of the Vanquisher, Revan's flagship.

As he finished carving the last of the symbols described in the tablets, Revan placed his blade at his side and waited, channelling the Force into the seal at his feet. If this worked, then his legacy would be safe and, in time, his true heir and apprentice to the Dark Side would rise as the new Dark Lord.

The sound of a laser-cannon blast cutting into the Vanquisher's side had Revan looking up, his golden-coloured eyes burning with pride beneath his helmet.

'Right on cue,' thought the Sith Lord, watching as Malak's flagship turned to that of his Master's and began barraging it with laser blasts and damaging the rear side.

At the same moment, as if fate had been playing a game of chase, the doors to Revan's chamber were buckled by a powerful wave of Force Energy, revealing a trio of warriors bearing lightsabres of their own designs, a female figure in the centre of the trio, her yellow sabre glowing in the dimly lit room as Revan turned to face them.

"You cannot win Revan," the woman exclaimed, Revan's Force Energy maxing out as he tried to resist the waves of magic flowing through the room.

His ritual was working and now, with her, Bastila Shan, the Republic's finest Jedi warrior, here with him, Revan knew he could begin his conquest and it would start with her.

Harry watched in awe as the dark lord swung his own sabre around, Revan beckoned to Bastila, inviting her to attack, which she complied, striking at his armour and slowly overpowering the Dark Lord. Forced to his knees, Revan lifted his sabre once more and deflected one of Bastila's strikes, cutting into her arm with a hidden blade as he rose again, Bastila's blood now adding to the seal beneath their feet. Bastila was too focused on defeating Revan to notice the deep glow that was forming beneath her and the Dark Lord.

'Yes,' thought Revan, 'I did it; so sorry Bastila, but soon, be it light or dark, you will be mine; on this day I vow that I will make you my queen and my true apprentice…now, all I need is…'

As if on cue, the Vanquisher's bulk was ripped away by a massive cannon blast, knocking Revan to the floor, his body damaged, the Force power within him spent from casting the ritual. As he gave in to the powers of unconsciousness, Revan's last thought echoed across the void of space.

'Soon…the Dark Side shall rise once more…and My dark warrior will see it rise.' Revan thought as the darkness over took him.

Harry gasped in pain as he was sent hurtling out of the memory.

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry awoke with the world in almost pitch blackness around him, his vision slightly out of focus as he seemed to be breathing rather heavily, his breath and his very heartbeat echoing all around him.

"What…what…was…that?" he asked, not expecting an answer from HK.

"_Explanation: no doubt Master that you have discovered the last known memory of my original Master, Darth Revan; the memory was sealed within his armour so that he could teach his new descendant about their destiny. Addendum: that new descendant is you Master and it is your destiny to bring about the second coming of the mighty Sith Empire._"

{Is that true Master?} asked Harry, his mind feeling so much stronger as he linked with Revan.

{It is Harry,} Revan answered, {But there is another piece to the puzzle that you must learn; for, if you are to be successful, then you must reunite with the one that destiny has chosen to succeed the woman from the vision.}

{Bastila,} Harry gasped, {But who…}

As if to answer his question, the helmet of the armour – as Harry then remembered he was wearing it, realising HK must have placed the full suit on him while he was in the dream world – seemed to activate a screen that showed an image that seemed to be taken directly from Harry's memories: a young girl with her arms around him in the Great Hall, before she turned to a red-headed boy and hesitated, before shaking his hand.

"Hermione," whispered Harry, "I need to find her."

{Yes you do,} Revan answered, {But first, my young apprentice, we must awaken the full power of the Force from within you and, in order to do that, we must leave the world you know behind: where were you heading?}

{Knockturn Alley,} Harry replied, {I can find a hotel there and make sure I won't be disturbed: this armour will help matters.}

{Then go to it,} commanded Revan, {Find a hotel, rest up and contact me once you are once again healthy, my young apprentice: HK will be with you, shrouded in a force field that will leave him invisible to all except you and, at your command, he will do whatever is necessary to obey your words: now, Harry Potter, my Sith Acolyte, go.}

{As you command, my Master,} Harry replied, before he felt the light-headed presence of Darth Revan leave his mind, leaving the new Sith wizard – or Sith Sorcerer, you could say – with his new servant and the Master of the Goblins.

Harry had work to do…

**And there is Chapter 1 of my more Darker Harry twist to the challenge by YugiohFreak54, though I should point out that the scene used in the vision was designed by him, so consider that a thanks for setting this challenge; all copyright is his;**

**Now though, with a destiny set in motion and new powers on the horizon, can Harry awaken the sleeping dragon within and find his true strength?**

**Also, can Hermione discover her role in Harry's destiny or will she remain lost to nightmares about the death of a friend? (and please don't kill me for that: I needed a reason for him to embrace the Dark Side and that came up.)**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry discovers some hidden truths about his lineage and it seems that Sirius is helping even from the next life; also, Revan has a quest for his young apprentice and Harry takes a new name before setting out to find Hermione and help bring her into his world of darkness;**

**Please Read and Review…**


	2. Episode 2

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 1:**

**Harryhermionealways: I guarantee that the learning stages of Harry's training will give him a true taste of power;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Hermione's nightmare was an ideal point, but it also sets the stage for Harry's darkness and, given how dark I want him to go in this story, I can think of nowhere better for it (unless I chose to set it after fifth year, of course.)**

**YugiohFreak54: I hoped that you wouldn't mind my using it; by the way, I never did get an answer: did you get the idea from my first draft of Sith Sorcerer? If so, then it looks like we're even here; I hope you enjoy the rest of the story;**

Episode 2: Two Lives; One Destiny

Leaving the tomb-like vault, Harry found that the return journey to Gringotts' main hall was slightly less nauseating than it had been on the way down, Ragnok not even looking to the new Sith Apprentice as they walked through the hall and into the High Master's office, the almost muted sound of HK's footsteps informing Harry of his servant's presence. When Ragnok closed the door to his office, there was a shimmer in the air and Harry watched as HK seemed to remove some kind of invisibility shield from his body, his bronze-coloured body now looking less rusted and more as if the droid was brand new.

With a nod of acceptance, Harry reached up and removed his helmet, his fierce yellow eyes staring at Ragnok as he asked, "So what happens now Ragnok? You said that I was summoned here to be emancipated?"

"And I told you the truth my Lord," Ragnok explained, taking his seat at the desk as he added, "Unlike in most cases of a Lord's demise, I wish to present you and you alone with access to the Last Will and Testament of Lord Sirius Orion Black as well as fully grant you the rights and access to your vaults. Such an allowance is also cause for a standardised Gringotts Blood Test, which will reveal any and all familial heritages that your lineage holds: which would you like to do first my Lord?"

"I would like to take the test," Harry explained, "But I also want you to use this test, or any others you can think of Ragnok, and tell me if there are any malformations with my magic."

"Such a request is possible my Lord," Ragnok answered, before he rose once more as he explained, "But, for such an in-depth examination, there is only one kind of test that can be performed: if you would follow me my Lord, I can take you there."

As Harry watched Ragnok walking back towards the door of his office, the Sith Apprentice turned to HK-47, "How did you manage to hide your appearance from those around us?"

"_Explanation: when I served under one of Lord Revan's descendants, I was upgraded with what is known in Lord Revan's time as a Mandalorian Assault Package, which allows me to shield my sight and sound from enemies under a veil of stealth technology as well as enhance my sensory capacities in the event of battle. Addendum: only my Master could ever know where I was situated through the bond that Revan had forged between us._"

'Looks like I have some research to do,' thought Harry, a part of him curious as to the meaning of the species known as Mandalorians. With a slow nod, Harry reached out and picked up his helmet from the desk, before he looked at HK once more as he added, "And, let me guess, you plan on using this technology to remain close to me?"

"_Answer: Master, I would only escort you anywhere you desired me to go at your command; though I did act on instinct under Revan, I have learned that it is best for me to only answer my Master's wishes and not provide such an untrustworthy front._"

"I…see," Harry replied, sliding his helmet over his face where he felt the back end of the helmet almost expand around his head, his newly-altered features now hidden from sight as he asked, "What can you tell me about this armour HK?"

"_Explanation: The armour was designed with Mandalorian capabilities when Revan had completed his task to rise up as the Lord of the Sith; originally, the armour were represented as a set of black robes and the helmet of the Mandalorian leader, known solely as Mandalore. It was Revan's later wishes to have the robes destroyed and, using the technology available to him as the Sith Lord, Revan was able to craft this powerful, one of a kind, suit of Mandalorian Super-Elite's Armour, which he imbued with the power of the Force to increase the darker capabilities of the wearer's Force Powers as well as to protect the wearer from mental assaults or environmental damages._"

"That is interesting," Harry nodded, his masked visage making him feel so much stronger as he asked, "And, when I put the mask on beforehand, how did I see a memory from my past as well as the memories from Master Revan's downfall?"

"_Answer: The mask was later designed by one of Revan's magic-user descendants to incorporate the use of items known to Revan at the time as Holocrons; this use of memory-induced access was similar to what the wizards call a Pensieve and allowed the wearer of the mask to witness any and all memories of their own lifetime or, at a command, to see the past life of Revan once more. Placating Addendum: Sadly Master, some time ago, the Holocrons of Revan were lost in a great battle and scattered to places in the world that are not known to my programming._"

"So what do I do now?" asked Harry, "I would like to learn more about Master Revan's past so that I can understand the future that lies ahead of me."

"_Theory: You could attempt to see the memories of your own predecessors in a Force-induced meditation; there was many a time that Revan himself saw the future or the past events through meditations and deep slumber. Extrapolation: it was through such meditations that Revan began to reclaim his title after the battles with the Jedi Council and what would become his Mistress, Bastila Shan._"

"We'll just have to try something then," Harry remarked, before he walked next to HK, his dark armour hiding the boy beneath it as he ordered, "Stay close to me under that shield; do not attempt to do anything unless I command it and, no matter what you do HK, do not speak to me if you are hidden from my sight."

"_Statement: As you desire Master._"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

As the night rolled on, Hermione listened intently as Bastila – or as she learned, the _spirit_ of Bastila – explained about Harry and his lineage ties to Darth Revan; she told Hermione all about the Force and about how she, as Harry's closest advocate, were also the one person who could gain the power of the Force through an alliance with the soon-to-be Sith Lord.

At first, Hermione would admit that she was slightly afraid of the fact that Harry's destiny involved a darker nature awakening within him, but, when she explained her theories to Bastila, the former Sith Queen answered her, "The loss he has suffered will be the catalyst for his power and, as I once saw in Revan himself, there is the potential to do great things for both sides. However, like Revan, Harry has a darker nature that he has not yet explored and, only through using his emotional catalyst to further his own power can he free himself from the lies spun by those who walk in the Light."

"And how can Harry embrace something that he knows he's not?" asked Hermione, her dark brown eyes almost shining with true energy as she thought on the one that Bastila had told her needed her.

"He can because he will," Bastila explained, "Surely you, Hermione Granger, have seen and perhaps even tasted the taint that lies within him; his mind and heart are damaged by this loss, but his power, his strength of will, the essence of who and what he is; these things still remain and, with your help, he can be reborn as a new person, a being with far greater powers than any who stand in his way or came before him."

"So Sirius' death will be the spark that ignites his fire?" asked Hermione, knowing that her words were wrong: this was her friend, after all, but, as she listened to Bastila, she began to get a feel for how she had been tied to Revan; almost in the same way that Hermione was tied to Harry. They had both faced battles, won and lost those closest to them, seen the true essence of power and yes, perhaps in some mixed-up way that Hermione could not fathom until she saw Harry again, had a desire for the other to feel it.

"That is correct," Bastila replied, "The death of a loved one brings about the essence of fear; fear turns into anger, anger into hate and hate into suffering, but, if he learns to harness these emotions, Harry Potter will become the most powerful Sith Lord since Revan himself."

"And this is why he needs my help?" asked Hermione, "He needs me to be there for him in case others try to forsake his power?"

"Yes," Bastila replied, "He would need you to stand by his side, as his lover and his apprentice; you cannot deny that you have feelings for him and, given what you have told me, I see that, in a manner similar to Revan and I, you and Harry have shared your adventures together, with Harry even risking his life to save and protect you. You know that Harry has power; he possesses a darkness to him that no-one wants him to hold. That is why you chose your allegiance to the Light: because you were afraid; you thought he had lost the power that he once wielded, but this…this, you cannot deny, would be so much better."

"Perhaps you're right," Hermione remarked, a part of her wondering how Bastila could have seen through her mask, "Ever since he saved me from the troll and risked his life to end my petrified state, I always had a feeling that I could call myself his girl, but there were elements that I didn't see coming and now, while he stews in his darkness, I'm here, choosing to abandon him."

"Then what do you think you should do?" asked Bastila, "Do you choose him or them?"

Hermione, her mind seemingly replaying every incident that she and Harry had faced, didn't need a long time to answer, "Him: I choose him and the ways of the Dark Side; I would stand by his side gladly and yes, Bastila, it would be as you said: as his lover and apprentice. The Light betrayed us both when they somehow managed to steal Harry's wand from him and let Sirius die: I choose the Dark Side; I choose the Sith; I choose…my Lord…my lover…my Harry."

"Then we have work to do," Bastila explained, "And it starts with you knowing what the power of the Force feels like."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry followed Ragnok down through the corridors of Gringotts towards another open chamber, though this one seemed to hold two things: a silver pedestal bearing several sheets of parchment and, next to it, Harry had to look again as he saw a strange cylinder decorated in runes and bearing a strange magical connection to the pedestal.

Behind him, Harry felt HK de-cloak himself before the droid spoke up, "_Exclamation: It…it cannot be; I thought they were all destroyed._"

"Do you know what this is HK?" asked Harry, once more removing his helmet as he stared at the cylinder.

"_Shocked Answer: Why yes Master; if my receptors do not fool me, then this is what was known to Revan as a Bacta Tank: they were used to restore the sick, injured and the wounded. However, when Revan reclaimed the mantle of Dark Lord from his former apprentice, he was found in a chamber filled with tanks that connected the near-deceased with the Force, barely keeping them alive. These Force Prisons, or Force Cages, were used to hold prisoners in a state of suspended animation and, when Revan discovered prisoners on his warship, the _Star Forge_, he found that he could drain the very life from his enemies. Some time after Revan's demise, there were rumours that these cages had all been destroyed._"

"And they were wrong Hunter Killer," Ragnok replied, his voice thick with emotion as he addressed Harry, "My Lord, this is, as Hunter Killer suggested, a Force Cage, but we of Gringotts were granted permission from Lord Revan himself to use this one to fully examine the magical potential and status of those who were strong in the Force. Please, my Lord, if you would remove your armour and then step inside the tank, we can get started."

"_Warning: The Master is not to remove his armour in the presence of the armed, Silverbane!_" HK seemed to go into some sort of active stance, his hands now holding what appeared to be a pair of small hand-guns. "_Suggestive Statement: It would be in your best interests to remove your weapon before my Master removes his armour._"

"HK is correct Ragnok," Harry agreed, "You will lower your weapons and show me the respect that you have done all morning or I will be forced to find another way to get the truth."

Ragnok bowed with respect to Harry, before he turned and walked to the chamber's entrance, unsheathing his goblin's blade as well as two daggers, before Harry nodded with satisfaction and began stripping down his armour, his body shivering with cold as it was exposed to the elements. Once he was completely naked before both HK and Ragnok, Harry stepped into the tank and, turning to Ragnok, nodded once, "You may proceed Ragnok."

"Yes my Lord."

"_Suggestion: Master, your physical state shocks me greatly; perhaps it would be best to pay your tormentors a little visit once we are done here._"

"We will eventually HK," Harry nodded, "But Master Revan ordered me to take a rest in Knockturn Alley and I will not disobey his orders: don't worry my friend," a cold smile crossed his lips as he added, "You will have the chance to have some fun; after all, I will need some guinea-pigs to test my Force Powers upon."

"_Resignation: As you desire Master, though my assassination protocols hunger for the blood of those who dare to harm my Master._"

"Believe me HK," Harry replied, watching as the tank closed around him, "So do mine!"

Once the door to the tank had closed, Harry remained very still, a strange mist rising from the ground and surrounding his body as he stood there, watching his assassin droid with a gleam of pure evil in his eyes: he knew that HK had seen the damage done to him by the Dursleys and, try as he might, Harry found he could not ignore the hunger for revenge and the thirst for the blood of his enemies that wormed its way through him. What stunned him even more, however, was the scary, yet sensual thought that, while he _couldn't_ ignore the hunger, a part of him didn't want to.

Once the mist had covered his body, Harry suddenly gasped as bolts of white lightning shot from six different points on the tank's interior, his body feeling alive, but ringing with pain: it felt like his heart was being carved up, his muscles, joints and bones coming alive with magic that tried to fight off the waves of tormenting pain. At the same time, Harry looked up into his reflection in the glass door and, for the first time that day, he lay his eyes on his new colour.

The glare that was looking back at him could only be described as feral: his once emerald-green eyes were now animalistic and filled with a cold, yellow shade that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and, as the electrical energy from the cage continued to surge through his blood, Harry then noticed the yellow in the eyes coming close to paling in their shade, until Harry truly resembled some kind of reborn demon, his skin paling and his black hair now falling around his shoulders.

'Damn,' thought Harry, watching as the energy trails that were running through him began to die down, 'I look like one scary son of a bitch.'

Then, as Harry concentrated on this energy, he felt something new rise within him: it felt like a prelude to a dragon breathing fire; rising from within his heart, the energy began to spiderweb down and outwards until, with a groan and a cry of pure malice, Harry literally _pushed_ the energy outwards, the Force Cage shattering into a thousand pieces, Ragnok and HK managing to find cover as Harry looked around, his eyes shining with raw energy. Pointing with his right hand, the Sith Apprentice then felt the energy moulding itself to his will and, as he watched, Harry saw his clothes and his Sith Armour rise from the ground and begin to cover his body, the armour almost covering his whole body as Harry held his helmet in his other arm.

'What is this power?' thought the young Sith, 'And how do I keep it?'

{Ah Harry,} the voice of Darth Revan spoke within his mind, {How nice to finally see you accepting the power within you!}

{Thank you Master,} Harry replied, walking forwards as Ragnok seemed to occupy himself with cleaning away the shattered glass.

{What you feel apprentice,} explained Revan, {Is the power of the Force: with your magical bloodline infused with the Force, you can do practically anything. What you did there is known simply as a Force Wave, which will allow you to dispel any nearby obstacles and, if used on a range of animate enemies, it can stun them and force their bodies into a state of paralysis.}

{I see,} Harry remarked, before he repeated his earlier question, {And how can I gain more of this power Master?}

{Meditate and focus on your darker emotions,} Revan informed him, {Through your meditations, you will discover more and more of your powers and, now that you have gained this power, I can leave you to your destiny. Don't forget to take a new name, my young apprentice…no, my Sith Prince, and make sure to find the one that your heart wishes to stand at your side. You, Harry Potter, are now the Lord of the Sith and it is your destiny to rule: until we meet again, my Prince.}

{Thank you for everything Master,} Harry replied, before he gasped as the link was severed and, turning to Ragnok, he asked, "What are the results?"

"Come and see my Lord," Ragnok informed him, indicating the parchment as Harry walked to the pedestal; once there, Harry watched as the pages of the parchment began to glow and, as he looked, he saw words being written in his own blood:

_HARRY JAMES POTTER – MAGICAL SCAN!_

_Wandless Magic Control – 100% (WARNING: PRE-SCAN REVEALED A 95% DECREASE IN MAGIC DUE TO BLOCKS)_

_Elemental Wizard: Fire – 45%; Thunder – 45%; Darkness – 10% (BLOCKS DETECTED: ELEMENTAL BLOODLINE NULLIFIED PRE-SCAN)_

_Parseltongue: 100% (Lineage Trait)_

_Occlumency/Legilimency Control – 100% (WARNING: PRE-SCAN REVEALED 99.5% DECREASE IN CONTROL DUE TO MAGICAL BLOCKS AND EMOTIONAL TRAUMA)_

_Multi-Lingual Understanding: 100% (PRE-SCAN REVEALED 80% DECREASE: EFFECT REDUCED TO PARSELMOUTH)_

_Dark Arts Master: 100% (Effect nullified due to blood wards)_

_Potions Master: 100% (Effect reduced due to blood wards)_

_RECORDED BLOOD WARDS PERFORMED AT THE REQUEST OF LORD POTTER'S MAGICAL GUARDIAN: ALBUS PERCIVAL WUFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE: _

_OTHER BLOCKS REGISTERED: 95% Decrease in attention span; _

_95% Decrease in memory ability; _

_99.9% Increase in distractive attention ability; _

_100% Decrease in Familiar Recognition;_

_POST-SCAN ANALYSIS: ALL BLOCKS REMOVED!_

_FAMILIAR RESULT: Phoenix, Serpent, Wolf,_

_LOCATION OF FAMILIARS: Unknown;_

"Dumbledore!" Snarled Harry, the pedestal being thrown off its stand as Harry pushed the Force outwards, his voice almost as icy and demonic as if he were wearing his helmet, "Ragnok: see to it that the DMLE are made aware of an attempted sabotage on my magical affinity: you will not tell them what my skills are and, if they persist, then inform their leader that I will meet with them personally."

"As you wish my Lord," Ragnok bowed, before Harry flipped over the parchments and, when he saw the blood results, his eyes widened as he gasped out loud, his magical anger being quenched as he exclaimed:

"You have got to be fucking kidding me! How can I be the heir of…of…_that?_"

"The tests do not lie," Ragnok explained, flinching as Harry's cold gaze met his own.

"Tell no-one," Harry hissed, looking back to the list, his eyes still showing shock as to what he was reading…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

The tavern was called the Poisoned Chalice:

It was a well-run dark-based tavern deep within the more shady areas of Knockturn Alley, so Harry knew he would be safe walking around in his armour, HK cloaked at his side, his armour hidden by a long black robe that bore no crest nor any indication of the fact that this seemingly evil-appearing person was in fact the Golden Boy of Gryffindor.

When Harry arrived at the tavern, he was seen to by a tall, lean man with very pale skin and eyes that burned with crimson fire; the man was dressed in a tuxedo and, when he saw Harry, he went to argue about a school-boy being down here, until he saw the coldness in the boy's eyes and, instead of arguing, the man bowed as he asked, "How may I be of assistance young Master?"

"I need access to one of your rooms," Harry explained, "For the remainder of the summer: I will pay three times the amount you charge, providing you the extra as a means to keep your silence and ignore any and all business I conduct."

"I accept your terms my young Master," the man replied, before he smiled and Harry nearly gasped as he saw a pair of pointed fangs beneath the man's lips: the man was a vampire! "Allow me to introduce myself: I am Marcellus D Hellsing and I am the owner of this establishment: for the price you offered, young Master, I wish to offer you my services with any and all inquiries and needs."

"Thank you Marcellus," Harry replied, walking over to one of the tables in the bar area as he added, "Would it be too improper of me to ask for a meal then? I've been going at my business for some time."

"Of course young Master," Marcellus replied, giving Harry another bow as he added, "May I also offer the Northern Suite for your stay? I guarantee that you will not be disturbed young Master."

"Very well," Harry replied, before he looked up and, with an icy grin, added, "And, if you require a name for me…"

"Oh no young sire," Marcellus remarked, but Harry continued nonetheless.

"Call me Zayne!"

**Chapter 2 and Harry/Zayne has managed to acquire a much more powerful outlook on his life, but what will he do concerning Dumbledore and what other powers await him?**

**Also, when will Hermione decide to meet with Harry and will she keep her word to Bastila?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: While at the Poisoned Chalice, Harry meets an unusual warrior who knows all about him and wishes to serve the new Sith Lord; also, Hermione receives a shocking letter from her future lover and discovers a few surprises of her own when she goes to find him; and, to top it all off, Harry is relaxing at the Chalice when he has a rather unusual set of visions, both of them concerning Dark Lords of a different nature, but why is he not scared?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Some of the lines used by Bastila were taken from the KOTOR game when Revan faces her on the Lost Planet;**

**2****nd**** Note: Harry's full lineage won't be revealed until near the end of his fourth years;**

**3****rd**** Note: Anyone who can guess where I got Harry's alias from gets a well done mention and the next chapter dedicated to them;**


	3. Episode 3

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode ****2:**

**Zamia: G'day yourself and yes; a big thanks to you for always being one of my favourite reviewers and, as promised, this chapter is dedicated to you;**

**Mkeeg91: you're right; this chapter is a thanks and a dedication to you too;**

**Luxlucis85DK: I just made up the name and your guess is wrong; I'm glad you're enjoying the story though;**

**Harryhermionealways: This IS a Harry/Hermione so why wouldn't she keep her word? Also, the wizarding world – and old Dumbledork – won't know what hit them;**

**YugiohFreak54: Don't worry about it pal; I'm glad you like this second attempt at the challenge; now all I have to do is keep it up;**

**Gallantmon228: I haven't officially decided whether it's a sabre or a spell yet, but I can't wait to write the chapter about those fools getting what they deserve;**

**Mrs Vega: Not Fawkes, not the Basilisk, not the boa and not Remus; the familiar idea came completely original;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Then you're going to hate me for this chapter;**

**ALSO: This chapter is dedicated to Zamia and Mkeeg91 for guessing the origin of Harry's alias correctly: Zayne, as in Zayne Carrick from the KOTOR Graphic Novel;**

Episode 3: The Poisoned Chalice

After one week, Harry awoke in what he could only describe as a near-perfect room, the morning skyline outside showing an approaching storm that made him slightly suspicious: this time of year, in the height of the summertime, the chances of storms were few and far between; for a second, he wondered if this was someone's idea of a joke, but then shrugged it off and began to get dressed.

His room, the Northern Suite, was a rather well-designed room with a four-poster bed decorated with constellations on the bedding; an armoire and shelving units filled one of the walls as well as a private bathroom and an open balcony that allowed Harry a view of Knockturn Alley. Dressed in his robed disguise, Harry returned to his room where he picked up the sensation of HK's cloak nearby; with a sly smile, Harry commanded, "Reveal yourself."

The shimmering field fell away and the loyal assassin droid seemed eager for the day's exercises and tasks, "_Query: Master, you seem a little happier this morning: is all well?_"

"Indeed it is," Harry replied, checking his yellow-eyed reflection in the mirror as he added, "It's officially the first day of my dark legacy and I am finally ready to begin my training in the ways of the Force, but, before I do that, there are certain items I will need to acquire, least of all being a new wand and the full contents of my vaults."

"_Condescending Statement: So a trip to Gringotts and an audience with Silverbane is on the agenda before you perform anymore tasks that will further your powers, right?_"

"Correct," Harry remarked, reaching out with the Force and summoning his long black robe, which fell over his armour and seemed to cover his face, which reduced the need for his helmet as he turned back to HK. "While I take my audience with Ragnok," he explained, "There are a few things I would like you to see to for me HK: I want you to prepare an inventory of information regarding my training as the Sith Prince and I would also like you to select a number of titles that I can bestow upon myself as the Sith Lord. My alias of Zayne is good enough for a start, but I will need something truly bone-chilling if I am to get my message across to those who will stand in my way."

"_Statement: I will perform your tasks to the best of my ability Master and will have a datapad ready for you by this evening._"

Harry just nodded as he left his room, the familiar darkened corridors and hallways of the Poisoned Chalice greeting him as he made his way down towards the bar area, inclining his head in welcome to Marcellus, who was busy speaking with another of his clientele. Leaving the tavern, Harry closed his eyes and reached into the essence of the Force, before he tried to reach out and sense any oncoming dangers that were in the area: this form of Perception, as he had learned, was something that Revan had gifted him with shortly after leaving his mind.

The Force, in itself, was a majestic weapon for his army and a power he was more than willing to access to its fullest potential: as he had learned, the Force Wave ability wasn't his only power; there were also powers tied to the very essence of life and death as well as a form of the Force known as Force Storm, which would allow Harry to use the element of thunder as a weapon for torture or interrogation. By far, however, his favourite power was that of Force Choke, which did exactly what it said on the tin, so to speak: there were others that Harry favoured, such as the power of manipulation and domination of the mind, as well as stunning and locking his enemies in submission with Force Stasis, not to mention the power of releasing the energy in a concentrated wave of magic that could decimate all forms of shielding around him – _Disable/Destroy Droid_ – but his favourite was the act of holding his enemies lives in the very palm of his hand.

'Truthfully,' Harry thought, walking back into Diagon Alley as he kept his Perception active, scanning the alley for any who would divert his attention, 'It has been one very productive and power-profiting week.'

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Hermione hid in the shadows of Knockturn Alley, watching as her Harry emerged from the Poisoned Chalice, his dark robe and cloak billowing around him in a fashion similar to their Potions Professor, his Force powers crossing her mind and sensing her nearby as he seemed to be distracted by the tasks at hand. If he knew she was there, he made no sign to react to the information; instead, he turned and walked off towards Diagon Alley, leaving Hermione to emerge from her hiding place and, crossing the street, walked into the Poisoned Chalice where Marcellus was watching.

"Good day to you Mistress," the vampire remarked, "How may I be of assistance?"

"The young man who just left here," Hermione answered, "I would like to know of his room and length of stay."

"I am sorry Mistress," Marcellus replied, "I'm afraid I am sworn to silence in the comings and goings of Master Zayne: are you an associate of his?"

"I am," Hermione replied, her voice as icy as Harry's as she explained, "You may call me Ventress and…" as she trailed off, Hermione lifted her head so that her eyes met those of the vampire, before she gestured rather subtly with her right hand and added, "_**You know that your customer is expecting me.**_"

Marcellus seemed to go rigid for a moment, before his face softened and, with a bow of his head, he replied, "I was told that you were coming Mistress."

"Very good," Hermione smiled, her eyes burning with raw magic as she asked, "Now, which room is Zayne located within?"

"Our Northern Suite," answered Marcellus, "Floor 3, Room 13; shall I inform him of your arrival?"

"No thank you," Hermione replied, walking past the bar area and up through the dark stairwell, her eyes still shining as the memories of the past week came back to her…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Hermione awoke rather late in the day, her early morning of teachings and talks with the spirit of Bastila still fresh in her mind as she began to get ready for the day ahead; when she went downstairs and greeted her parents, Hermione was then surprised by the letter that sat on her kitchen table, the rather hasty scrawl obvious to her.

'Harry,' she thought, 'What could he want that can't wait?'

Looking to the letter, Hermione picked it up and gasped as a sudden wave of energy passed through her body, making her shiver almost ecstatically, her mouth parted in an o of awe and wonder; somehow, this letter had been laced with her Harry's power and, as she had touched it, she had felt his power flowing through her.

Looking at the letter, Hermione opened the clasp and read the information within:

_My Beloved Hermione Granger,_

_If you have received this letter at the time I predict, then I know that you will have already been visited by the spirit of my ancestor and that you have also just felt the rush of power imbued into this letter. If you have felt it, then I know that you will have been told of who I am meant to become in this world and the destiny set before me: I write to you, my Hermione, because I wish to express just how much I love you and to tell you that I always will._

Hermione had to stop reading at those words: he loved her and he always would? There was no doubt in her mind that it was Harry who had written this and, judging from how he knew of Bastila visiting her meant that he must have been visited, and chances were _mentored_ by the spirit of Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith.

With trembling fingers, Hermione continued reading:

_I understand if there are things about what my destiny involves that will scare you, but I ask that you allow me to embrace the fear for both of us and to turn that into power. Sirius' death was not my fault, I see this now, but it was rather the fault of whatever manipulative old bastard decided to take my wand from me and force me to watch him die. Instead of mourning him and letting myself fall into doubt and fear, I choose to rise from the ashes, like a phoenix of the darkest nature, and embrace my destiny as Prince of the Sith._

_As you read these words, know that my little spell is already taking effect and, within one week, both of us shall possess powers that we could never have anticipated: from what I have read from my Master, Darth Revan, I will be taught about my powers and my capabilities within my sleep while you will be taught by Bastila herself._

_Hermione, I beg of you to wait one week before coming to find me: if you trust in the power of the Dark Side, then you will have no problems locating me no matter how far apart we are. If you can wait and if you can accept the Dark Lord that I seek to become as your boyfriend, then I swear on the Force itself that I will love you for all of my life and beyond._

_You are the only one I would trust with the position as my princess and, as such, I bestow upon you a name of one of the former female Sith: Ventress; I go by the name of Zayne, a young Jedi who aided our Master once before, but soon, I will take the true mantle and become a Sith Lord with a new name and you, my Hermione, my Ventress, will stand at my side as my Princess and my Sith Lady, the Queen of the Dark Side._

_One week, my Ventress; then you come hunting;_

_May the Dark Side of the Force be with you always;_

_Harry_

Hermione's fingers trembled as she read the information, a part of her accepting the fact that Harry had become the Sith Prince – she'd accepted that when Bastila had talked about her choice to either abandon him or stand with him – while another part of her was just getting her head around the information contained within the letter.

'Ventress,' she thought, looking to the name, 'I like it and my Harry wishes me to wait one week? Then that is what I shall do: I chose to stand with him and obey him and so, as his Princess, I will do that.'

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

'And I did as he commanded,' thought Hermione, standing outside the door to room 13, her own Force abilities detecting no human presence within the room; however, there was some kind of energy trace coming from the other side and, from what Hermione herself had learned from Bastila, it was clear to the Sith Princess that Harry hadn't come back alone.

Gesturing with her hand, Hermione tapped into the Force and unlocked the door, stepping inside as she could almost feel her Harry moving around in the room, his power and the waves of Force energy that filled the room making her gasp with awe and wonder: while she, with help from Bastila, had gained much in the ways of power, Hermione now understood that, while she would be his equal, she would never be able to match power with her Sith Lord.

Closing the door behind her, Hermione looked around the room as she asked, "Are you here HK-47?"

"_Answer: I am here at the request of the Master; who are you female meatbag?_"

Hermione rounded on the reply and pushed the Force outwards once more, her efforts rewarded by a flickering shield being de-activated as she disabled the droid's defences, her eyes no longer chocolate brown, but a shade of bronze that made it look like her eyes were alive with the flames of darkness.

"It is nice to see you again," Hermione spoke up, "I am Hermione Granger, chosen descendant of Darth Revan's wife, Bastila Shan and you, HK-47, are now going to answer my questions."

"_Weary Resignation: As you command Mistress; it is a pleasure to meet the female companion of my Master once again; how may I be of service?_"

"Where is Harry?"

"_Statement: The Master has gone to Gringotts Bank to meet with Silverbane regarding the fortunes and treasures of the Sith Empire; once he returns, he has requested this unit to produce a list of suitable options for the Master's mantle as Dark Lord of the Sith._"

"I see," Hermione replied, "And what has he learned in the ways of the Force?"

"_Exclamation: The Master's Force capabilities have increased ten-fold since our arrival here in the tavern; he has learned to harness the Force for interrogation and torturous purposes and takes great favouritism towards the ability known as the Force Choke._"

"Then he has truly become powerful," Hermione remarked, walking over to the bed as she sat down, "Very well HK: have you compiled the list for Harry?"

"_Explanation: The Master has only been gone for five minutes, Mistress: hardly enough time for a suitable list to be created; Request: if you would not mind Mistress, perhaps you could assist this unit with the task? It would pass the time for both of us until the Master returns from his own personalised assignments with Silverbane?_"

"Very well," Hermione replied, knowing full well that Harry would not have asked her to wait if he did not truly wish to meet her, "Let's get to work: I sense we don't have much time before Harry returns."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry, walking towards the entrance to Gringotts, smiled to himself as he snuck a glance down the street towards Knockturn Alley, his Force Perception telling him that all tasks at hand had been completed: he had a feeling that, if it were for him, then Hermione would have accepted the power, but, as long as she believed he didn't know of her arrival, then he knew she would keep herself loyal to him. While she was obviously stronger in the Force as he had become, Harry knew that Hermione's loyalty would never need to be tested because she had always been the one to pull him back from the edge of disaster: from the troll to the first-year trials against the Stone, through to helping him solve the mystery of the Chamber and then being there for him when he was forced to watch his family being ripped apart.

Yes, it always had been Hermione and so, with the Force flowing through him, his magic now at least ten-times stronger than it had been ten days ago, Harry knew he would be able to begin his crusade towards the Dark Side, his destiny and destination clear as day: the mantle and absolute control over the power of the Force…as the Sith Lord.

That was the real reason he had left HK back at the Chalice; that was the real reason he had not had any defences placed around his room or even made Marcellus aware of his power, though he suspected that the vampire landlord did in fact have an inkling that Harry was someone with power. After all, how many other fourteen year olds managed to intimidate a vampire into assisting them while making it clear that they were not to be disturbed?

Approaching the main desk, Harry looked up at Ragnok, the goblin High Master bowing to him as he gestured to one of the many offices; once they were alone, Harry lowered his hood and, with a rather showman-like swirl of his robes, revealed his Sith Armour and sat down opposite the High Master, Ragnok waiting until Harry was comfortable before he spoke.

"Lord Harry," he bowed, "I sense great power has found its way into you and that you have grown in the ways of the Force: tell me; how may I be of service?"

"Aside from allowing me full control over all of my assets and fortunes," Harry remarked, brushing a stray strand of dust from his armour, "I want you to make sure that no-one, and _especially_ not Dumbledore have any further access to my vaults. After that, I want you to answer some questions I have regarding what I learned last week."

"Of course my Lord," Ragnok replied, making notes of his tasks on several sheets of parchment, before he asked, "What would you like to know?"

"Firstly," Harry replied, leaning forwards so that he and Ragnok were now inches apart, "I want to know more about the magical abilities mentioned in my scan: I probably don't need to guess but, am I right in saying that my wandless magic control is just another way of calling me Force Sensitive?"

"That is correct my Lord," Ragnok answered, "As you saw in the vision from Lord Revan's armour, you know that magic in itself is just a near-diluted form of the Force that was twisted and manipulated to the bidding of the caster. The Force, on the other hand, is so much more than it would appear: with it, you can make the very words you speak have such an effect on your enemies that they would believe themselves to be walking in a world of nightmares. You can cast abilities that would have you thrown in Azkaban if used as magic: no doubt, you have discovered the power of Force Domination, Force Grasp and Force Storm, have you not?"

"I have," Harry replied, "Though the second is something I prefer to call a Force Choke, as it does more than simply grasp my enemies; it puts their very life in my hands and their fate is mine to decide."

"Then you have also grasped what it means to be a Sith," Ragnok explained, "Now, my Lord: what else may I tell you?"

"My scans revealed my elemental bloodline," Harry retorted, "But I never even knew of such a thing: so, what I want to know is this: what kind of power are we talking about here, especially concerning the power of Darkness?"

"Well," Ragnok answered, "First and foremost, the three elements mentioned are now yours to command, but, because your magic is a full infusion of magi and Sith, your power expands beyond that. As a Fire Elemental, you now possess the ability to command the dragons of the skies and even use the power within you to drain the very light and life from fire itself, turning it into nothing more than cold ice: this power is known as Flash Freezing and is only ever seen in extremely rare cases. Second, your Thunder Elemental powers come from the fact that you are a Sith and are more tied into the power of Force Shock, Lightning and Storm, which are three different stages of Sith Lightning. Furthermore, you can now summon the power of the storm to aid you and also have the archaic ability to fly, though it is more based around the power of the wind than actual flying."

"Very interesting," Harry smiled, his yellow eyes glowing menacingly as he asked, "And Darkness?"

"This is not only a power," explained Ragnok, "But a trait: you see my Lord: with the power of Darkness at your control, you now possess the ability known as Veiling, which allows you to move through the realm of shadows to any location you choose, as long as the shadows are touching the ground; also, because this is a trait-based element, your authority over the creatures of shadow is assured. All who dwell in darkness will obey you, with the odd one or two exceptions."

"Such as?" asked Harry, watching as Ragnok seemed to shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Well," answered the High Master, "As a trait, the power of Darkness allows you to command those who fall under the category of human darkness; sadly, this is not pure Darkness as then all who walk in the night would be your servants. As a Master of Human Darkness, this power is limited to the Vampires, the Werewolves, the Phantasmals and the Necromancers, though this power is enough for any who choose the darker side of their nature."

"And," Harry remarked, "In theory: if I commanded the Pure Darkness, what would obey me then?"

"All dark creatures would obey," answered Ragnok, "From Vampire and Werewolves to Inferi and Dementors and even Lethifolds."

"I see," Harry nodded, a sad smile crossing his face as he added, "Oh well: with the power I have already at my command, it's more than enough: now, onto the next power: this Multi-Lingual Understanding."

"That one is easy my Lord," Ragnok answered, "In his time, Lord Revan had a gift with the Force, as did all who were Force Sensitive, to understand alien and foreign languages; they called their native language Basic and, through the Force, they were able to understand the language of any beast whom they encountered by pushing the Basic/English Language into their minds. This, Lord Harry, is the gift and power of Multi-Lingual Understanding and it is a gift that I sense you have already seen through your understanding of runes and texts around the bank, not to mention the maximum impact of your Parseltongue language against the Protector."

"And you would be right," Harry nodded, a part of him recalling how he had actually understood the texts located within Revan's memories: this was a gift that would come in very handy when Harry chose to make his new powers and his new self known to the world.

"Is that all my Lord?" asked Ragnok, watching as Harry stood up, swishing his robes around his body so that his armour was hidden from sight.

"Other than what I asked regarding my fortunes and assets," Harry replied, "Yes: you have proven yourself a worthy ally Ragnok: I am glad that you are an ally and friend of my Master and of the Sith."

"Believe me Lord Harry," Ragnok answered with a swift bow, "The honour is mine!"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

It was early evening by the time that Harry returned to the Poisoned Chalice, his body weary from a day's worth of investigations and purchases, as well as ensuring he had everything he would need for fourth-year Hogwarts and doing what he could to keep away from those who could cause a situation that he would sooner avoid.

Passing through the bar area, as he always did, Harry was about to ascend to his room when he heard Marcellus call after him, "Master Zayne, a moment of your time please?"

Stopping on the bottom step, Harry hid his eyes from view as he asked, "What is it?"

"Begging your pardon young Master," Marcellus replied, his eyes low as he seemed to pick up on the Dark Domination trait of Harry's magic, "But there was a young man who came in not an hour ago and asked to see you."

"Really?" asked Harry, straightening up as he turned to Marcellus, his face and body hidden by his billowing robe, "And where is this person now?"

"Floor 3, Room 1 young sir," Marcellus replied, "I placed him there with your instructions that you were not to be disturbed."

"Thank you Marcellus," Harry replied, before he did something that was against even his newfound nature; he gave the tavern owner a smile and tossed him a Galleon as he added, "Should I receive any other visitors, make them feel comfortable and remember my request that you ask no questions: keep this up until the end of the summer and I shall give you an extra four hundred Galleons as a thank you for all your help."

"As you wish Master Zayne," Marcellus bowed, before he turned and left, Harry following suit as he made his way up to the third floor.

As he stopped outside his own room, deciding whether or not it would be best to have HK accompany him, Harry thought against it and, instead of opening the door, he gathered his wits and his power all around him, the dark majesty of the Force flowing through him as Harry prepared to use his new powers…just in case.

Moving down to room one, Harry gestured with his hand and checked the door for any traps, before he reached into the room beyond, finding only one human presence and an energy signature that he registered from his temple-like vaults in the belly of Gringotts. Whoever, or whatever was on the other side of this door was armed and they were armed with a weapon from Revan's time.

Pushing open the door, Harry had to react quickly as several red bolts of energy were fired towards him; using the Force, Harry deflected the bolts, before he shot forwards with his left hand, bolts of red lightning flying from his fingertips, his yellow eyes shining as the owner of the weapon was disarmed, Harry summoning the weapon to his hand while his victim recovered.

"A warrior's reaction," Harry remarked, observing the weapon: from what he had learned through HK and Revan's teachings, the weapon was identified as a Mandalorian Heavy Repeating Blaster Rifle, the kind used by a mercenary or the highest-ranked of Mandalorian warriors. With a sneer, Harry looked up to the source of the attack, before he asked, "Who are you and why do you want to see me?"

"I am here to uphold an ancient alliance," a muffled voice replied, before Harry watched as a figure dressed in black armour rose from the ground; his face was hidden by a rounded helmet with the same mark on his helmet that was on Revan's; his body was covered in black armour that bore the scars and damaging marks from Harry's counter attack as well as several clips holding what appeared to be grenades of different sorts.

Looking back to the helmet of the stranger, Harry gave a soft chuckle as he asked, "Let me guess: Mandalorian?"

"Mandalore!" corrected the figure, "I am the leader of the Mandalorians and the commander of the Earth-based Mandalorian Legion: when I heard the descendant of Revan had come to us, I sought you out with only one wish: to serve you and honour the tradition and alliance of our ancestors: Darth Revan and Canderous Ordo, later known as Mandalore the Preserver."

"I see," Harry replied, looking to the black armour as he asked, "I always thought Mandalore wore silver armour or some kind of light colour with the black Mandalorian Crest?"

"I am beyond the Mandalorians of old," answered Mandalore, "I am what has been known as a Mandalorian Knight, a warrior who, like you have, has been born and bred with the power of Magic. My forces even refer to themselves as the Shadow Legions, because of the Mandalorian's Battle tactic to rely on stealth as well as brute force."

"And these Shadow Legions wish to serve me?" Asked Harry, watching as Mandalore seemed to take an interest in repairing his armour, "Why should I let you?"

"Because you need warriors and I have them," Mandalore answered, "If I swear my loyalty to you then you will have the allegiance, lives and freedom of the Shadow Legions to do with as you wish: we call ourselves that name because we are also more loyal to the Sith descendants of Darth Revan than we are to the Jedi. Unlike Mandalore before me, I will serve your every command, my Lord and go as far as to take my own life if it means saving yours: my mind, body and soul are your playthings and I am your practice dummy and training target for as long as you wish it of me."

"But again," Harry added, "Why should I trust you? A man who hides behind a mask?"

"Because of who lies beneath the mask," Mandalore replied, "But if I reveal myself to you, then you must know that I intend to serve you and, unless it is to your Lady, I know that my identity will remain a secret."

"As you wish," Harry nodded, "But why?"

"Because," the Mandalorian commander replied, before he lifted his hands to his head and removed his mask, startling Harry as to what he saw beneath the black mask, "The best kinds of allies are those who nobody suspects, right?"

"You?" asked Harry, looking to a head of dark hair and a seemingly round-faced teenager, a pair of dark blue eyes staring at Harry, a look of pure servitude and loyalty being shown behind those eyes.

"Nice to see you too Harry," replied Neville Longbottom, "So…what do you say?"

**Chapter 3 and that was a surprise: Neville is MANDALORE and he wants to serve the Dark Side? What can be the reason and result of this unexpected encounter?**

**Also, if one Hogwarts student knows about Harry, is it possible for anyone else to know?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry and Hermione meet at long last and Hermione shares Harry's shock at Mandalore's true self; also, it seems that Hermione has some hidden powers of her own and Harry is relaxing at the Chalice when he has a rather unusual set of visions, both of them concerning Dark Lords of a different nature, but why is he not scared?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Force Perception is just my way of describing how Jedi/Sith sense others nearby; I'm unsure if it is a real power, but there is Force Precognition so…you never know;**

**2****nd**** Note: Some powers and descriptions of characters are also taken from KOTOR 2: The Sith Lords as well as KOTOR;**


	4. Episode 4

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode ****3:**

**BioHazard82: I am, but I'm just trying to get a few chapters done for this one at the moment;**

**Zamia: That's not a bad idea, but you have to remember that Hogwarts is a school, so why would they be there? Maybe I'll use that for one of the Holocron Defences; thanks again;**

**Stardancer0829: Just them? What about the others I've written? Only kidding mate; thanks for your review;**

**Mkeeg91: Mandalore the Chubby? Are you taking the mick? Also, it will be answered with a few introductions in the next chapter;**

**YugiohFreak54: I won't abandon it and I'm not: by the way, if you need another idea for a vision based on the SW universe, there's one in this chapter that will also be used in ROTSS;**

**MariusDarkwolf: The passing in the alley was similar to a scene where two key characters pop up and down one after another like a pair of meerkats: just thought I'd keep you waiting a **_**little**_** bit longer;**

Episode 4: The Sith Connection

Harry stared in shock, his yellow Sith eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Neville, his fellow Gryffindor and dorm-mate watching the Sith Prince with a look of normality, as if he had expected this reaction to his true identity. Harry, meanwhile, had to shake his head several times, rubbing his eyes and actually chuckling incredulously as he looked to the Mandalorian commander in front of him, the one who had such power and respect was actually the one who had little respect and believably no potential.

'The irony is just delicious,' thought Harry, before his mood returned to the dark mask that he had put up as he asked, "So, _you're_ Mandalore?"

"Yes I am," Neville replied, looking to Harry with a wry smile, "What? You thought that the son of a prominent pureblood family was really that dense and accident-prone? I only act like that so that nobody suspects the truth about me: aside from you, the only other person to know I'm Mandalore is my Grandmother."

"And what does she have to do with this?" asked Harry, shaking his head as he looked to his young companion, "By that, I mean that if you're Mandalore, then what does she do for you?"

"Other than play her necessary role as my legal guardian," Neville answered, though it sounded more like a question as he explained, "She acts as my private mentor and, in a sense, I guess you could call her my watcher. While I'm being the accident-prone near Squib that people see me as, she's taking care of my business with the Shadow Legions as well as keeping an ear to the ground as to the return of Darth Revan's Heir…you," he added, pointing an armoured finger at Harry.

"And now that you know who I am," Harry added, his shock being dampened by the revelations that he was learning, "What do you plan on doing if I say yes and choose to invite you into the Sith Order?"

"As I said," Neville reminded him, "I will serve your every command and put my own life on the line if it means saving your life."

"But that's not what I'm asking," Harry remarked, a sly smile crossing his face as he asked, "If you serve me, will you drop this Squib's idiot that you portray yourself as and keep to the proud pureblood heir that you are?"

"If it is your will," Neville answered, giving Harry a soft bow of his head, "I don't wish to do anything that disgraces your prestige and reputation; I know that it will seem strange that I can turn myself around in such a short space of time, but that is what I will do; all you have to do is ask."

"Then I ask it," Harry nodded, before his yellow-eyed gaze hardened as he added, "In fact, Neville Longbottom, Mandalore: I _order_ it: you will become the proud son of a pureblood family and take your rightful place as my second and right-hand man and, in return, I accept the services and allegiance of the Mandalorian Shadow Legions into my Dark Court."

"As you command my lord," Neville bowed, before he rose from the bed and kneeled before Harry, one hand tucked behind his back while the other was crossed over his chest. "By the honour of the Mandalorians, I, Neville Canderous Longbottom, alias Mandalore, Commander and Leader of the Shadow Legions, do hereby swear my allegiance, my life and my every breath to the services of Harry James Potter, Heir of Darth Revan."

"And I accept your allegiance and service, Mandalore," Harry replied, his yellow eyes now shining with the raw magic of the Force as he explained, "As long as you don't try to sway my decisions and follow my orders, then you shall never again have to taste the full power of the Force on your body: we are friends at Hogwarts and allies in the Order; rise, my soldier."

Neville stood tall and proud, his black armour shining in the late afternoon light that shone through the window of his room as Harry then handed him the helmet back as well as his rifle. Accepting his assets, Neville replaced his helmet and then watched as Harry pushed the Force outwards, combining its energy with his magic as he repaired the commander's armour, before, with an icy tone, Harry commanded, "Now Mandalore; come with me: I think it's time you meet my new queen."

"As you command," Mandalore replied, the technology in his Mandalorian helmet somehow disguising his voice to sound a lot different to the man beneath the mask.

The man that nobody would suspect of walking on the Dark Side, both of the Force and magic;

The one that, through this deception, Harry came to refer in Mandalorian Lore and command as Mandalore the Shadow…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

When Hermione felt the presence of her Harry standing outside the door to his own room, she stood tall and handed the now-completed datapad to HK as she smiled and waited: now they would be reunited and, from the research performed by both HK and Hermione, the time would come for Harry to claim a name of power and true darkness. A title with which the Prince of the Sith could become a true Lord and Master over the Dark Side and all who walked in its shadow.

Stepping back, Hermione did the honourable thing and lowered herself to her knees, her energy withdrawn into her body as she saw HK cloak himself, before the door to the room opened and, in a flurry of raw Force power and magical presence, Harry seemed to almost glide into the room, his black robes billowing all around him, revealing the armour of Darth Revan.

However, before she could accept the fact that their meeting was here at last, Hermione then caught sight of the being following her Harry into the room, the black armour appearing as a mystery, though when she saw the helmet of the newcomer, Hermione's suspicions increased as she lay eyes on the crest on the being's helmet. If her memories were right, then that symbol was the crest of the noble clan of warrior and soldiers known as the Mandalorians, the commander of which had served under Revan and Bastila during the Second Coming of the Sith Lord. The only difference between that Mandalorian and this one was the simple fact that he was dressed in a black suit of armour with a blood-red Mandalorian Crest upon his helmet and, judging from the way he watched Hermione from Harry's side, it was clear to her that this Mandalorian had sworn his allegiance to the Prince of the Sith and Harry had accepted.

The soft, almost hissing sound of Harry's voice returned Hermione's attention to her lover and future lord as he spoke up, "My Ventress, I am very happy to see you here: I sense such power within you and want you to know that I meant every word in that letter."

"I have eagerly waited for the day where I would see you again Zayne," Hermione replied, using Harry's alias in case of eavesdroppers, "When I first learned of your destiny, I wanted to try and convince you to turn away from it, but, in the end, I decided against that: I thought you would be lost to the ways of the light, but your power, your strength of will and the essence of who and what you are show me that you have chosen this of your own accord and I will stand by your side gladly, as your lover and apprentice if it is your will."

"No my Hermione," Harry replied, gesturing with his hand as he closed the door behind them, before he reached out to her with his right hand and pulled her into his embrace, "You are not my apprentice; you are my queen."

Hermione finally looked down from the floor into the eyes of the boy, no the _man_ that held her in his arms; for the first time, she lay eyes on his yellow-eyed glare and, as she looked into those eyes, Hermione's dark brown eyes seemed to shift into her fiery red and yellow mix, earning her a smile from Harry as he held onto her.

"The Dark Side has blessed you with its touch Hermione," Harry hissed, his own voice as icy and sibilant as if it were made of glass, "And now you have allowed yourself to walk with me: for that, I keep my promise to you; I will love you for all of my life and never take another."

"Harry," whispered Hermione, before she was silenced as her lips were drawn close to his, Harry's soft touch on her body now being given to her lips as he kissed her, his eyes closed and his power seemingly being given to her through their touch. As Hermione returned the kiss, she slowly opened her mouth and allowed him access to her teeth and tongue, a soft moan of love and longing escaping her as she held onto him. When they finally came up for air, Hermione added, "Thank you…my love."

"Now," Harry whispered, his forehead pressed close to hers as he addressed her, "I think there's someone you should meet," he stepped back, though kept hold of her hand as he indicated the Mandalorian at his side, "Allow me to introduce Mandalore: leader of the Shadow Legions and our first ally in the reconstruction of the Sith Order; Mandalore, allow me to introduce my one and only, my queen and your mistress, Hermione Granger."

Mandalore placed his hand to his chest, before he bowed to Hermione respectfully, his distorted voice speaking through his armour, "Mistress, it is an honour and a privilege to serve you: Master Harry, do you wish me to reveal who is under this mask?"

"I do, old friend," Harry replied, a warm smile crossing his face as he then whispered to Hermione, "You're not going to believe this."

Hermione looked from her lover to their soldier as Mandalore removed his helmet; when she saw the wizard beneath the armour, all she could say was, "No bloody way!"

"Yes way," Neville smiled, before bowing again to Hermione, "And I choose to serve and protect you and Harry both here and at Hogwarts Hermione; Harry has already ordered me to leave the Squib that I portray myself as behind and become the proud, strong wizard that you see standing before you. As he is my lord and master, I must do whatever he tells me to and so, as of September, you'll see a whole new Gryffindor among you, but, Harry?"

"Yes Neville?" asked Harry, watching his warrior with a near-amused look.

"What are you going to do about Hogwarts?" asked the Mandalorian Commander, "There will be certain elements at the school that will try and stop you and Hermione being together."

"If they try," Harry remarked, his darkness spiking as Hermione visibly shivered, Harry's touch providing her with a taste of his power as it seemed to come alive at his fingertips, "Then they will know only pain and suffering: I lost one person close to my heart; I'm _not_ going to lose another, especially not my queen!"

"Of course not my lord," Neville nodded, his eyes low as he added, "I was foolish to even suggest such a thing: forgive me."

"I do," Harry replied, his gaze hardening as he added, "This time!"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

For the rest of the week, Harry and Hermione remained together in the Poisoned Chalice, their presence and company guarded at all times either by the cloaked HK-47 or their surprisingly new ally, Mandalore, whom Harry had sworn he would only allow the commander's true self to be known to he and Hermione.

In this time, Harry had also revealed the truth about his lineage tests and magical scans to Hermione, the Sith Princess sharing his shock as to the revelations that were made, before Harry assured her that he would not need her to worry about it as he was going to deal with the problems that arose from the revelations as they came.

Now that they were together, Harry and Hermione also managed to strengthen their own Force powers and connection to the Dark Side; with help from the fortunes of Darth Revan, Harry was able to acquire a whole new arsenal of books, spell work and teaching methods that enabled both he and Hermione to explore the darker side of magic as well as the Dark Side of the Force. Through these teachings, Harry began to mentor Hermione in his natural element of Occlumency, knowing full well that, as a Force Sensitive, as well as being on the receiving end of her connection to Harry, Hermione would have no real problem using Legilimency to read the minds of their enemies and discover their deepest secrets.

When the weekend came around, Harry was then reminded by Hermione as to the approaching invitation from their _friend_, Ronald Weasley as to attending the Quidditch World Cup; with a soft smile, Harry organised a meeting with Neville, who he permitted to remove his helmet while they spoke, before he told Hermione that he would make plans of his own – thanks to some additional help from Ragnok, who told Harry that the High Masters of the Goblin Nations always had honorary boxes at each event – before he addressed his warrior.

"It's not that I _don't_ want to go," Harry explained, "But there's just something about all these revelations lately that has me questioning the allegiance of those I called my friends. I mean the Weasleys are meant to be a proud, prominent pureblood family and yet they live in an even worse case state of life than the lowest of witches and wizards. Then there's something that's only _just_ come to my attention: Mr and Mrs Weasley have had six children attending Hogwarts before Ron and Ginny, so the fact that they forget the platform number is so farfetched that, quite frankly, I _don't_ want to believe it."

"Now that you mention it," Hermione put in, her body sat almost comfortably between Harry's legs as he ran his hands through her hair, a book on Dark Mind Magic open in her lap. "There was something a little off about the fact that he said there was nowhere left to sit; I mean, when Neville and I went looking for Trevor, we found several compartments that were actually _empty_."

"So what are you saying my lord?" asked Neville, leaning against the wall of Harry's room, "That your meeting with the Weasleys was, in reality, nothing more than…"

"Another part of the plan," Harry finished, "That's exactly what I'm saying Neville: I never noticed anything about it before because of the blocks restraining my attention and memory, but now that they've been removed, I can think freely and clearly. A part of me doesn't want to believe it, but I don't think I was ever anything more to those like Dumbledore except for being a part of the plan."

"Harry," Hermione then gasped, "Don't you remember? Dumbledore was also the one to suggest we use the Time Turner to…"

"Try and rescue Sirius," Harry nodded, his hands clenching into fists; Hermione lifted her own hand and gently ran her fingers along her boyfriend's skin as she felt his rage at the mention of that event. "And that was something we failed, but, do you know what? It wouldn't surprise me if it had been Dumbledore to take my wand from me and, now that my wand is no more, he'll feel like he's backed into a corner."

"And you know how dangerous a caged animal can be," Neville pointed out, before he asked, "So what do you plan on doing with regards to the World Cup?"

"I say we go," Hermione put in, "If but to learn the truth if nothing else."

Harry had to agree with that fact and, as he resumed running his hands through his girlfriend's hair, he heard HK speak up, "_Statement: I would have to agree with the Mistress, Master; to learn the truth about the meatbags that are attempting to end your existence would be a fair enough reason to attend this ceremony._"

"Plus," Hermione added, "Neville can have some of the Legion watching over us, couldn't you?"

"Of course I could," answered the commander, "Even if the Ministry have provided the means to stop disguises and spells getting through, Mandalorian technology is beyond them and so I can have them watching from within the World Cup and nearby."

"_Addendum: Master, if it is your wish, I too shall escort the Mandalorian Warriors with their stealth missions and report directly to you as and when possible._"

"Thank you HK," Harry sighed, a smile crossing his face as he added, "Besides, while I may be dark-sided in nature, I could use something to make me seem like the same old Harry: all right, we'll go, but if those red-headed traitors try and sway me into joining them, I reserve the right to turn Ron Weasley into a rendition of a human porcupine."

"_Query: How would you perform such a task Master? Even with all your power, you have not yet mastered the shifting powers of your magical side._"

"Easy," Harry grinned, "I'd unleash the full fury of the Dark Side on that red gerbil!"

Neville found himself laughing, as did Hermione, as both of them suddenly had an image of Ron Weasley as a gerbil, the power of the Force making his fur look like he had needles sticking out of his body. Once he had calmed down, Neville saluted Harry as he added, "I'll leave for my home immediately my lord and meet up with you at the World Cup: do I have your permission to bring an escort of my own?"

"A girlfriend?" asked Harry almost teasingly.

"Perhaps," Neville smiled, before he winked at Harry and added, "If the Force and destiny are on my side."

"I give you permission," Harry laughed, before he gently tapped Hermione on the shoulder and added, "I guess I'd better go and sort the reservations out with Ragnok as well: will you be okay waiting here love?"

"I'll be fine," Hermione replied, standing up and, as she turned to Harry, she found herself locked in another kiss from her boyfriend as she then whispered, "But I'll be waiting."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

The night before they were to leave for the World Cup, Harry found his sleep disturbed by visions and dreams the likes of which he had never known before; yet, as the dreams, and the emotions surrounding them, filled his mind, Harry found he held no fear for them: instead, he allowed himself to be drawn into a Force-induced consciousness as he sat back and enjoyed the proverbial show…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry was standing at the edge of what appeared to be an open field, his body standing tall and proud as he waited for something, but he did not know what that something was. A part of him just felt it, burning away inside him and, somehow, Harry _knew_ it was tied to his earlier vision from the memories of Darth Revan that he had obtained from the armour.

Then, Harry started as he heard approaching footsteps; turning to look around, Harry caught sight of a pair of figures approaching what appeared to be a stone temple of some kind, one of the figures obvious from his black robes and the mask that covered his face.

"Revan," whispered Harry, before he observed Revan's companion: he was human and was dressed in dark red clothes that seemed to mould perfectly to his appearance, his bald head the only part of him exposed; when Harry looked closer, he saw that the companion's head was decorated – if he could call it that – with a selection of blue streaks that ran over his forehead and down towards his neck.

Following Revan and his companion, Harry felt like he should know the man at his Master's side, but a name seemed to elude him as Harry watched, both Revan and his companion entering the stone temple where he found them coming face to face with a droid of some kind. As Harry continued to observe, he saw Revan and his companion battle defences through two doors on either side of the droid, before Revan returned bearing what appeared to be a datapad that he held before the droid and then, with his companion at his side, walked towards a third door behind the droid.

Silence filled the temple for a moment, before the companion spoke, watching as Revan paced back and forth, eagerly waiting for something to come out of his research and actions in the temple.

"The dark side is strong in this place," the companion clenched his hands and seemed to throw his head back in ecstasy as he exclaimed, "I can _feel_ it's power."

'He can feel the power?' thought Harry, before it clicked: Revan's vision in the tomb; the betrayal; Bastila. 'This is Malak,' Harry thought, watching as Revan approached the door and, with a gesture, unlocked an ancient-looking seal.

Malak was speaking again, "Is this wise? The ancient Jedi sealed this archway; if we pass beyond this door, we can never go back."

'This must be the day that they discovered the true power of the Dark Side,' Harry reasoned, watching as the ancient seal was unlocked and the door opened, Malak speaking again.

"The Order will surely banish us; are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?"

'The Star Forge?' asked Harry, trying to recall if Revan had said anything or taught him anything during their trainings; when no answers were presented to him, Harry realised that the secrets must have been contained within Revan's Holocrons and, in order to acquire them all, he had to find and absorb the knowledge within the Holocrons.

Following Revan and Malak through the door, Harry caught sight of what appeared to be a strange spire of some kind, but, as Revan got closer, Harry saw the spire part into three and a ball of golden light shine from within, its light reflecting what appeared to be a map of some sort.

Before he could question further, Harry felt his consciousness take him from one vision into another, though this one was slightly more familiar as Harry found this one accompanied by a familiar discomfort in his forehead…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Harry found himself wandering up a long, dark stairway in what appeared to be a strange, almost abandoned house, a hunched figure hiding near the door to a well-lit room. Deciding it was better to see what was going on, Harry approached and, as he was about to ask about the man hiding at the door, Harry then heard a voice speak from within the room.

"O-of course not, my Lord Voldemort…but, if it could be done…without the boy?"

"No!" hissed an icy voice, making Harry freeze, the magic in his veins making him unable to move: he knew that voice; he had _feared_ that voice: it was him. "Bring the boy to me: the boy is everything: it cannot happen without the boy and it will be done as I say!"

As Harry looked into the room, he couldn't help but notice a high-backed leather chair that was turned away from him, a strange, thin man with wild dark hair kneeling in front of the chair while, at the side, a very familiar snivelling traitor of a man had his head bowed in fear.

The kneeling man was speaking, "I will not fail you, my lord."

"Good," hissed the occupant of the chair, Harry knew who it was – it _was_ him: Voldemort. "First, gather our old comrades; send them a sign."

Harry then watched as a large black snake slithered right past both him and the man outside the door, a hiss of Parseltongue sounding throughout the room as the snake seemed to speak to Voldemort. /Master, we are being watched by the Muggle: he is standing outside, but…I smell…another…/

Harry gasped: how could the snake know he was there? This _was_ a vision, wasn't it?

Voldemort was speaking, "Nagini tells me that the old Muggle caretaker is standing just outside the door!"

Harry jumped back with a start as Wormtail's cowering face looked upon both he and the man outside, the voice of the Dark Lord now speaking to Wormtail as he commanded, "Step aside Wormtail, so that I can give our guest a proper greeting."

Harry watched with fright as a bony, weakened hand was lifted, Wormtail, the kneeling man and Voldemort looking right at him, but appearing not to see him as the Dark Lord cried, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry watched with a mixture of shock and ecstasy as the Muggle was robbed of his life, before he seemed to become entranced by the events in the room as Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue to Nagini, /You said you sensed another my pet: who did you mean?/

/I am unsure Master,/ hissed the snake, Harry feeling a sense of fear rise within him as he wondered how this was possible, /But I believe it to be the Chosen One: the Master of the Dark; the child of the Revanchist!/

/Are you sure?/ asked Voldemort, a note of pride and warmth in his tone as he tried to turn towards the door, /Can it really be…/

Before he granted the Dark Lord the privilege of an answer, Harry tapped into the power of the Force and pulled himself away from the vision, a sense of pain stinging at his arm as the land of the living beckoned him home…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Snapping his eyes open, Harry stared around the room, Hermione asleep next to him and HK de-activated in the corner of the room: it couldn't have been true: it had been nothing more than a vision, so how did Voldemort's pet know he was there?

'No,' thought Harry, 'I'll never do it: he can't claim me after everything he's done: I will make Voldemort beg for his life and, should he return, I will make him call me…Master!'

Looking to his arm, Harry smiled when he saw a familiar electrocution burn across his wrist, his eyes filled with yellow, evil intentions as he channelled the Force into his determination.

'I'll never accept him,' Harry thought, using the Force to heal his wounds, 'Never!'

**Chapter 4 and it would appear that there are demons Harry does not wish to confront; what doesn't he want to accept about Voldemort and does it have anything to do with how Nagini sensed him?**

**Also, what will happen when the Lord of the Sith attends the Quidditch World Cup and seeks answers from those he calls friend?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Sith Prince and Princess attend the QWC and meet up with some old and new friends, but Harry's visions have the Sith Prince on edge; also, it would appear that Harry is not alone in denying answers to questions he has concerning his past and future as a certain Ice Prince proves when the two meet;**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: ****Harry's visions are taken from the Goblet of Fire movie and KOTOR Game;**


	5. Episode 5

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 4:**

**Zamia: Is swearing a sign of darkness, I never tell; but yes she has and the QWC will have its own surprises;**

**Winged Seer Wolf: Oh Harry will send him a message all right, but it won't be the one he's expecting;**

**DalekDavros: Don't blame me for his language; it's what he says;**

**HorusRa: Those are good ideas, but I'm not actually planning on using the sabres yet; maybe one time within the tournament, but not just yet;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Hermione's side to things will be revealed pretty soon, but in a nutshell, she doesn't care; all that matters to her is Harry;**

Episode 5: The Storm Approaches

Hermione knew from the moment she woke alone in their bed that something was wrong with Harry: over the time that the two had explored their relationship – without taking it too far _yet_ – they had always woken up side-by-side, though this time, Harry was nowhere to be seen and, as she strained her ears and sought him out through the Force, Hermione gasped as to what she was feeling.

Powerful, fire-hot waves of pain and energy were coming from all around her, the energy and power easily traceable back to the Sith Prince as his presence was nowhere nearby, but his emotions told Hermione enough. Something was bothering her love and, as much as he'd try to do otherwise, Harry couldn't ignore the pain accompanied with whatever it was that bothered him so much.

Looking to the corner of the room, Hermione saw that HK was still de-activated, the bronze-armoured droid standing as if asleep, though Hermione knew that he was programmed to react to the slightest disturbance in the room. With a soft, though concerned smile, Hermione commanded, "HK, awaken!"

There was a whirr of machinery and HK's red optics began to flicker into life, before the droid addressed her, "_Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve you mistress._"

"Have you seen Harry?" asked Hermione, indicating the empty spot next to her body, "He's gone and I can't seem to trace him through the Force."

"_Hesitant Answer: Mistress, I was made aware of the Master's departure, but he asked me not to worry you as he said this was something he had to deal with alone._"

"Did he tell you what was wrong with him?"

"_Addendum: Though I was able to detect a heightened sense of adrenalin and increase in heart rate, I was unable to discover the source of the Master's distress._"

"Thank you HK: time check please?"

"_Recitation: 9 hours and 37 minutes ante meridiem: rendezvous with Silverbane is scheduled for 1 hour post meridiem and activation of the transport to the Quidditch World Cup is scheduled for 1 hour and 30 minutes post meridiem._"

"Which gives me nearly four hours," Hermione remarked, leaving the bedroom to take a shower, her mind still focused on Harry as she tried not to think about what was coming. Another fear that troubled her was the fact that her Harry had somehow blocked her from his scans as well as kept his mind away from her by shrouding the room in the negative energy that traced him through the Force.

As she emerged from the bathroom, Hermione was surprised to see Mandalore waiting for her, his body covered in the same black armour that he wore as the Mandalorian Commander; when he saluted to her, Hermione nodded and watched as the leader removed his helmet, revealing the familiar face of her fellow Gryffindor, Neville looking both worried, but eager to serve as he explained, "Hermione, HK tells me that something seems to bother you: is it Harry? Is he all right?"

"He's fine Neville," Hermione replied, looking around the room as she seemed to search for any deceptions from the commander, before she asked, "Is everything prepared?"

"Yes milady," Neville replied, looking around with her as he explained, "I have two of my finest warriors shadowing you and Harry at the World Cup and have already informed them that HK will be escorting you and that they are only to reveal themselves at the command of our Lord."

"Speaking of Harry," Hermione added, knowing that if anyone would know his location, it would be Neville. "Have you seen him or has he contacted you at all?"

"Not since I departed to make the arrangements for this weekend," Neville answered her, his eyes looking around the room as he asked, "Why? Is something wrong Hermione?"

"Well," Hermione replied, "Ever since our union, we've always woken up together and, well, this morning, I opened my eyes and found myself alone: I asked HK, but he said he didn't know where Harry had gone, only that he had gone."

"I see," Neville replied, his eyes on the door as he asked, "And do you know when it was that Harry awoke this morning?"

"No," Hermione answered, before she looked to HK and asked, "HK?"

"_Answer: the Master awoke from his slumber at 7 hours and 21 minutes ante meridiem; he left for the unknown 10 minutes later; I do not know anymore than that mistress: I am sorry._"

"Don't be," Hermione replied, before the two of them gasped, HK reacting instantly as the door opened and, as if on cue, Harry stepped in, dressed in Revan's Armour, his face concealed by the helmet, his stature indicating a sense of power and pain.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, watching as Neville replaced his helmet and kneeled before his leader.

"Sorry if I worried you Princess," Harry replied, his voice distorted by his helmet, "I had some…unfinished business to take care of."

"What business?" asked Hermione, "Harry: you had me worried and I thought you had blocked me out!"

"I did," Harry replied, before he lifted his hand and removed his helmet, the back-side of the helmet folding outwards as Harry removed it from his head, the front side of the helmet pulling away like it was nothing more than a mask.

"But why?"

"Because," Harry replied, his yellow eyes fixed on Hermione, the Sith Princess gasping as she then felt him reconnect to her mind and heart, a wave of memories hitting her hard as Harry added, "It was personal!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

**_2 Hours Earlier…_**

Harry stood outside the entrance to his target, his yellow eyes shining in the early morning light that filled the street, his Force powers expanding outwards as he attempted to disguise his presence from those around him. To them, he was just another face in the crowd, not that anyone would stand a chance against him if they tried to take him on.

After Veiling from the Poisoned Chalice, a part of him feeling a small sense of guilt at not involving his Princess in this duty, Harry had actually enjoyed the feeling of the darkness around him, but now, watching his target from a hidden vantage point across the street, Harry knew that the darkness in him would flourish and grow with what he had to do.

Dumbledore had taken Sirius from him in the hopes of trapping him in hell itself, but now, with the actions of this day, Harry would find himself freed from Dumbledore and leaving the old man with nothing else that he could use against Harry.

'Besides,' thought Harry, emerging from the shadows, 'It's not like these pathetic Muggles don't deserve this: oh, how poetic it would be if Large Marge was here with Kipper.'

Looking down to his side, Harry practically licked his lips as he caught sight of the same blade that had been seen in Revan's vision, the small sword more powerful than it first appeared; it was a cut down form of a weapon known as a Krath Blood Blade and was very useful for assassination or hidden attacks and, as he lifted the blade to his face, Harry seemed possessed as he licked his tongue along the edge, tasting the dark taint within the weapon as he held onto it.

Crossing the street, as well as gathering the Force around him to do what was necessary, Harry felt like he was reliving the infamous event from thirteen years ago as he gestured to the front door, silently unlocking the door with the Force and stepping inside, his long black cloak gliding eerily over the ground as his steps were silenced with but a push from Harry's magic.

'Mustn't give the game away,' Harry thought, smiling sadistically as he made for the first port of call: the place that those assholes had called his home for ten years. Arriving outside the door to the cupboard, Harry reached out with the Force and sent bolts of red Force Lightning into the room, clouds of dust, feathers and muck flying from the room as Harry stepped back, locking the door once more with the Force.

Moving like a demon in the night, Harry climbed the stairs to the upper floors, his yellow eyes shining with raw magic as he pushed his magic outwards, sealing the whole house within a cocoon of Force energy, which would keep the events of this day hidden until it was too late for the old bastard to do anything except weep.

'Obviously,' thought Harry, 'I will have a role to play in all this, but I won't hold back.'

Stopping outside the proverbial door number one, Harry seemed to become further possessed by the dark soul that had been wormed into his mind by the visions and dreams from overnight, his hand smoothly gliding over the door as he reached out with the Force; sure enough, as he had guessed, there was no sign of the youngest of his targets: his whale of a cousin, Dudley.

'Perfect,' thought Harry, moving along the hall until he reached the Dursleys' bedroom; with a cold sneer, he pushed out with all his darkness and blew the door inwards, the scream of his Aunt bringing a smile to his face as Harry stepped inside, the windy backlash from his Force Push making his cloak billow around him in the style of a certain Potions Master.

"YOU!" Thundered Vernon, moving from his bed, Harry feeling like he was going to lose his lunch as a long-time suspicion was confirmed: his Uncle at fourth-base nakedness was an image that not even a Dementor could overpower and, as Harry shook his head in revulsion, he pushed out once more with the Force, slamming Vernon into the wall and, with another gesture, Harry thankfully concealed the man's nakedness with the bed sheets, wrapping them around his Uncle like he was bandaging a mummy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Asked Aunt Petunia, her eyes wide with terror as her nephew turned those eyes of his on her, all trace of what was Lily Evans gone in an instant as Petunia saw only the feral, demonic shade of yellow that Harry had acquired. To her, it was like looking into the eyes of the devil himself and, as Harry looked at her, he smiled icily and placed a finger against his lips, shushing her with a whisper of breath that sounded like a howling wind through a haunted house.

"Don't speak," he hissed, his tone even colder than anything Petunia had heard from him, "I'm just going to have some fun with Shamu here and then you're going to answer some questions."

"Where is my son?" asked Petunia.

"Now that," Harry laughed, "Is something we don't need to guess: he's probably down in the kitchen, half-shitting himself and half-stuffing his face with the contraband food that his Mummy said was simply the signs of a growing boy. Now, unless you want me to go and pay him a visit while my powers do their work on the whale here, I suggest you shut up and do exactly as I say."

"B-But how are you doing this?" asked Petunia, "Y-you're not allowed t-to d-do m-m-m…"

"M-M-M?" mocked Harry, before he lifted his free hand and summoned his Aunt to him, her eyes inches from his face as he hissed, "Magic!"

"_That_ outside of that freak place," Petunia snarled, her anger and rage being replaced by pure fear as she looked into the eyes of the dragon that was standing in front of her.

"Such a shame," Harry replied, holding up his right hand, the wrappings that were encasing Vernon now stopping as if on command, "That the power I command is not magic, but something much darker, much more inhuman and, if you think that magic and those who use it are monsters…then what does that make me?"

Petunia was now visibly shaking as she looked into the eyes of her nephew: he had no remorse, no regrets and definitely no mercy; looking to the wrappings that were encasing her husband, Petunia asked, "W-what do you w-want?"

"Want?" asked Harry, stepping back, his hand still holding his Uncle in place, "Since when do you care what I want? You tried to destroy me and you failed: but you have to realise something dear Aunt. I lost the man I loved like a Father over the school year; a man who was willing to set me free and take me into his home. But, when I was stabbed in the back by those I called friends…and then I was forced back into this prison like some kind of condemned man, I had no idea that I would emerge from the depths of my own fears more powerful than ever. You see, what you, Petunia Evans, and those who thought they could control me have done…is awaken the Beast!"

Red lightning flew from Harry's hand, striking Vernon's flabby folds, a scream of pure pain and fear escaping the Muggle as Harry lowered his hand, the magic holding Vernon in the swathing folds of the bed-clothes not being removed as Harry looked to his Aunt.

"I have gained so much power," he explained, "And now, thanks to this power, the Beast that you feared, the entity within me that has laid dormant for so long is now awake; thanks to all this pain, the Beast is going to rise from the ashes and, once I have had my fun, there will be a victim; consider it…" he launched another flurry of red lightning from his hand, now burning Vernon's arms as Harry added, "…A sacrifice!"

"But why?" asked Petunia, "Why would you do this? After everything we've done: we took you in when a normal person would have drowned you!"

"Silence!" Thundered Harry, using his left hand to now call on his personal favourite Force power: clenching his left hand into a fist, Harry watched as Petunia gripped at her throat, her eyes wide with terror as she felt like a pair of hands was wrapped around her throat, though none were there. Yet, Harry knew from experimenting with this power what it felt like: if it were the lower form of Force Wound, Petunia would hardly feel any real pressure; however, through his own darkness, Harry had evolved this power to Force Choke and Grip, though he had not yet gained the necessary malice to evolve it further into a Killing Power.

"A normal person you say?" he asked, holding Petunia in his grasp, "A normal person would not have beaten me, starved me and treated me like a slave! A normal person would not have slandered the name of my parents and hidden the fact that I had gifts like no other child my age: a normal person, Aunt Petunia, would have _loved_ me!"

"I…I…I…" Petunia gasped, watching as her nephew seemed to consider whether or not to kill her; instead, he lowered his hand and the female Dursley gasped with shock as she felt the constrictions against her neck being removed.

"Your husband," Harry explained, "Is nothing more than a monster and I am the slayer of that monster; you, however, are nothing more than his puppy-dog; someone who does what she's told because Mummy and Daddy favoured Lily over you. So now, dear Aunt, I have a few questions for you and, if you don't answer them correctly, and believe me, I'll know, then he will be hurt: if you understand, then say…yes…Master!"

Petunia looked with fear and horror worming through her mind at the still-bound form of her husband, a part of her wondering why her darling Dudley hadn't come to help them; she decided that Harry's power must surely be greater than he was letting on. Lowering her eyes, and recalling the pain she had felt in her throat when she had defied him, Petunia gasped out, "Yes Master."

"Good girl," Harry replied, a demonic smile on his face as he added, "Oh, and just in case you were wondering about your Ickle Diddykins, he's not disturbing us because I sealed him in a stasis lock that will only be removed once I have the answers and, believe me, if Vernon fails me before I'm done questioning, then I will let my power's dragon devour your son as well!"

The imagery was enough: Petunia bowed her head and asked, "What is it that you wish to know Master?"

"Let's start with the obvious," Harry replied, "My parents: if you and my Mother hated one another, then why would I be left here with you?"

"There was a man," Petunia replied obediently, her tone apathetic as if to display her submission to the demon in front of her. "He left you on the doorstep with a letter and the promise of payments if we took you in. Vernon argued it and I didn't want your ab…"

"AHHH!"

Petunia looked up as Harry now had red lightning scorching the lower side of the blankets, which were wrapped around Vernon's ankles; when he lowered his hand again, Harry commanded, "You will not call it an abnormality: you will call it my gift; my magic; my power!"

"I'm…sorry," Petunia gasped, noticing the blackened areas that now decorated her husband's feet, "I meant to say your gifts; I did not want them scaring my son, but the payments soon changed all that: knowing I could spoil Dudley while you were left in the cold was enough for me."

"Many times," Harry remarked, his yellow eyes glowing madly as he channelled his rage into his words, "Shamu's sister suggested you leave me at an orphanage: why didn't you?"

"The letter said that he would know if we did," Petunia answered, "So we were stuck with you!"

"Where is this letter?"

"I tore it up!"

"AHHH! NO, PLEASE: SHOW SOME HUMANITY!"

Petunia saw that Vernon's body was now smoking, Harry's hands sparking with red lightning, his eyes glowing madly as he hissed, "You're lying: _where_ is the letter?"

"There," Petunia gasped, pointing to her dresser, "Top drawer."

Gesturing with his free hand, Harry pulled out a whole selection of circus tents – otherwise known as Vernon Dursley's underwear – before a light blue parchment sailed into his hand; opening the clasp with a single flick of his wrist, Harry read the information:

_Dear Petunia Dursley nee Evans,_

_You may not remember me; my name is Albus Dumbledore and it is my sad duty to inform you of a task that I know you will not be happy to oblige: last night, your sister, Lily Potter nee Evans, lost her life and left her only son without a family. It is my wish that you, as her only living relative, raise the boy as your own._

_I am fully aware that raising a wizard would not be your cup of tea and so I wish you to know that I have nullified Harry's magic to the point of a Squib; he is no more powerful or able to use magic as you are. This will last until he turns eleven, in which he will come to Hogwarts and learn about magic; now, to aid in this deal, I am willing to provide you with 5000 of your pounds every four months and a promise that I will deal with any magical outbursts to the best of my ability._

_Rest assured that this is for the Greater Good and, once he turns seventeen, then you have my PERSONAL GUARANTEE that you will never see him again;_

_Yours truly,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore;_

"Bastard," Harry snarled, firing off another surge of red lightning, Vernon's screams satisfying the rage and hunger for revenge that he was feeling at the moment, before he turned to Petunia and asked, "Do you know how much that is by now?"

"I don't care," Petunia cried, watching as Harry incinerated the letter with nothing more than a look.

"Well let's add it up, shall we?" asked Harry, counting off the amount on his fingers, "Every four months for thirteen years…well, twelve and a half anyway; so, that's four times twelve, which equals forty-eight and then we times that by five thousand and we get…£280,000; nearly a quarter of a million pounds and none of it was given to me: why?"

"Because I knew what he meant," Petunia snarled, "His personal guarantee would mean that you were going to die!"

"Oh," laughed Harry, now fully rounding on the smoking, smouldering corpse of Vernon Dursley, "Not before him!"

Before Petunia could say another word, she found her body and voice frozen, her eyes unable to move anywhere except from the body of her husband as Harry lifted his hands and, with a truly evil roar, somehow managed to absorb a mysterious web of violet and golden-coloured light from Vernon, the body of the Muggle whale crying out in fear and terror as Harry seemed to get stronger while he got weaker.

Finally, after moments of draining the mysterious energy, Harry lifted his hand once and snapped his fingers, Vernon falling to the floor, his mouth dripping blood and his eyes still and unmoving.

"VERNON!" Cried Petunia, looking to Harry, "What have you become?"

"A demon," Harry replied, rounding on her as he walked across the room, "And, for you Petunia, I have something much more evil, but first, unless you want to join him, you'll answer a simple question!" He lifted his hand and Petunia gasped as the grasping feeling returned to her throat, Harry's lips curled into a snarl as he asked, "Yes or no Petunia: is Lily Potter my Mother?"

"N…N…No," Petunia gasped, "That's w-what made…it…worse: she…would never…bear a child!"

"Then tell me," Harry gestured with his free hand, his yellow eyes glowing with raw Force Energy as he asked, "**_Who is my real Mother?_**"

Petunia's eyes glazed over as the Force Domination took effect, her voice calm and gasping, but still monotone as she answered, "Bellatrix Lestrange!"

"**_And my Father?_**" asked Harry, his eyes now glowing with raw power.

"V…V…Voldemort," replied Petunia, her body being dropped to the floor as Harry stepped back, his voice lost to him, but his magic doing what his instincts could not. All of a sudden, a powerful wind began to blow throughout the room, Harry's Force Storm power letting itself loose as the upstairs area of Privet Drive was reduced to a wasteland, Harry grabbing Petunia with his hand, his other hand sweeping across her face as he hissed, "**_You shall never again know me by anything other than Master: you will serve me! _**Do you understand?"

"Yes Master," Petunia replied, watching as Harry threw her body to the ground, before he turned on his heel and left the room, making for the kitchen as he sought to deal with the final problem.

All he had to do was open the door, before he commanded, "**_You will hang yourself after confessing to the murder of your Father!_**"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"No!" whispered Hermione, watching as Harry pulled out of her memories, his eyes burning with raw energy as she asked, "So…it's true?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "Voldemort is my Father: the Dark Lord is my Father and I am truly alone again."

"No you're not," Hermione replied, putting a soft arm around her boyfriend as she held him close, "You have me."

"And me, my Prince," Mandalore added, stepping forwards and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I will not reveal your secrets or question what you do: I do have my own problems with him, but I will not stand in your way."

"Thank you," Harry replied, his eyes still shining as he added, "We'd better be getting ready then: Ragnok wants to meet me at one."

"Harry?" asked Hermione, watching as her boyfriend made for the bathroom, "What did you do to your Uncle anyway? I don't think I ever heard of a power like that."

"Doesn't surprise me," Harry replied, "It's a Dark Side force power that, in a nutshell, drains the life from my enemies: it's called Death Field, but my anger was solely focused on Vernon as I did what I had to with Petunia."

"And what did you do to her?" asked Mandalore.

With an icy smile, Harry answered, "I sent her to Ragnok and he's set her to work down in the dragon mines: he'll only release her if and when I command it; as for my cousin; he was a poor, unfortunate boy who was at the edge of his rope."

"How do you…" Hermione began, but she then remembered what he had commanded to the being behind the door.

"Yes," Harry replied, "I orchestrated the death of my former family…once and for all and, when I meet with him, I will get some answers from my Father and, if I don't like them," he turned to Hermione, the young girl gasping with awe and wonder as she saw the feral yellow colour in Harry's eyes.

"What will you do?" she asked, earning a cold smile from Harry.

"Simple," replied the Sith Prince, "I'll do what I've been doing every time we meet: I'll kill him!"

**Chapter 5 and it would seem that Harry is descending into the darkness quite nicely, but will he keep his word or will the truth set him free?**

**Also, what will Harry do knowing what he does about Dumbledore's betratyal?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Sith Prince and Princess attend the QWC and meet up with some old and new friends; also, it would appear that Harry is not alone in denying answers to questions he has concerning his past and future as a certain Ice Prince proves when the two meet; and, just when Harry thought he has time to consider his options, Voldemort sends the world a message: HE'S COMING BACK!**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Harry's little speech about the Beast and his power is inspired by WWE superstar The Undertaker; piss him off at your own risk: sounds about right, doesn't it?**


	6. Episode 6

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 5:**

**King1367: This is going to be a pretty fun encounter for Harry and Draco; in fact, I have a few ideas on how I'm going to prove to Draco that Harry is no longer his little victim;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Is that a hint to a pairing you'd like to see? If so, then consider it done, but, as you pointed out, she'll need a bit of a back-story that I think I can nail down;**

Episode 6: The World Cup

Hermione was never one to challenge Harry openly, her senses telling her that he was better left alone, but, when she had heard the declaration that he would be willing to kill his own Father if he didn't like the answers he was given had almost forced her to speak out to her oldest friend; yet, as they made their way into Gringotts, Harry dressed in Revan's Armour and Hermione wearing a long set of blood-red and black robes that seemed to match the armour, the Sith Princess knew that she shouldn't really be surprised. Harry was different now: he was no longer the kind, innocent, naïve little Gryffindor that she had known: he was the Heir of Darth Revan and, as both scary and awe-inspiring as it was to admit it, he was also the son of the darkest wizard of the 20th century.

These two things were clear to her and so, no matter what she needed to believe, Hermione knew that, just like he had changed to become the new Prince of the Sith, so too did she have to leave the old Hermione Granger behind and stand with her Prince. After all, he could have chosen anyone to stand as his Princess, but he hadn't; he had chosen _her:_ she was his Ventress, his mate and his love and, in return for this, she had his heart; he was her Knight, her Champion and her Prince all in one.

"Hermione?"

The soft sound of her love's voice had the Sith Princess bringing her attention back to Earth; sharing a glance with the armoured wizard, she asked, "Yes Harry?"

"I just want you to know," Harry explained, "That Ragnok has his best warriors watching us; so, in the slightly obvious chance that we run into the Weasleys, make sure that you don't allow them to take you away."

"I won't," Hermione replied, before she smiled slyly as she added, "Besides, if anyone presents a threat to us, then we can always have HK deal with them, right Harry?"

"Right Princess," Harry grinned, his yellow eyes shining with raw magic as he added, "But, you know, just in case."

Hermione nodded as Harry stopped before the main desk, the familiar sight of Griphook making his day as he called out, "Master Griphook: could you inform Chief Ragnok that Lord Potter wishes to see him?"

"Of course Lord Potter," Griphook answered, gesturing to a side hallway as he added, "He is expecting your arrival: enjoy the World Cup."

'I will,' thought Harry, striding with renewed confidence down into the chief's offices, Ragnok welcoming his client with a warm handshake as he indicated his desk.

"We have thirty minutes before the Portkey activates," Ragnok explained, "So, if it is alright with you Lord Potter, I would like to run through some new investigations that I have discovered on your behalf."

"As long as you're quick," Harry remarked, Hermione knowing all too well that, had anyone else told that to the goblin chief, they would have probably lost their head. "Anymore business that is left can wait until after the World Cup."

"Very well my lord," Ragnok nodded, feeling a sense of fear and intimidation from the Heir of Revan; after he had sent his slave to work for Gringotts, the goblin leader had known that his lord and client had shed blood and taken a life with his power. As Lord Revan would say, he was slowly becoming one with the Dark Side of the Force and it was down to Ragnok to honour and obey his relationship with the Heir of the Sith Lord.

Removing two parchments from his desk, Ragnok cleared his throat before he continued, "With respect to your wishes my lord, I feel it only right that we take care of the two important pieces of business here and now: the last will and testament of Lord Sirius Black as well as your official declaration from the will of Lord Revan."

"That should do," Harry nodded, "What will that leave?"

"A letter," Ragnok explained, "From one Lady Lillian Evans, alias Lily Potter, regarding some surprising revelations concerning your lineage as well as a message from her and Lord Potter to you."

"Very well," Harry sighed, feigning ignorance for a moment as he guessed that this message from Lily and James had something to do with his place as the son of the Dark Lord. "Shall we start with Sirius?"

"As you wish my lord," Ragnok bowed, unfurling the first parchment, before he asked, "Would you mind placing a drop of your blood onto the parchment my lord? This will activate the will as it was written with the highest security measures in mind."

"Very well," Harry nodded, pricking his finger with the blood blade before he watched as a drop of his own blood stained the parchment, Harry tapping into the power of the Force to heal his would-be-wound.

As Harry and Hermione watched, the drop of blood that Harry had shed seemed to become absorbed by the parchment before a silvery trail of mist began to rise from the parchment, taking the form of Sirius, who seemed to smile when he saw Harry there, almost as if this was Sirius' soul being imbued into the paper.

"Greetings to everyone in attendance to this will reading," the spirit exclaimed, before he then laughed as he added, "Just kidding: Harry, I know it's you hearing this Will as, other than Remus, Lily and James – if they're still alive – and the mentioned members of my family, you are the only one I really wanted to hear this. So, with that in mind, here we go."

Sirius' spirit seemed to clear his throat before he spoke with a tone that Harry had only heard after they had left the Shrieking Shack, the tone of someone filled with regret and emotion, "I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound mind and body, do leave the following items to the following candidates:

First, to my brother in all but blood, Remus Lupin, I leave one-and-a-half million Galleons and the honour of calling yourself a real man, not the monster that you think you are. I always tried to tell you Moony that this heart is who you were and that this flesh is only flesh; take these words into consideration as, in the event of Lily and James' death, we all agreed that you should look after Harry.

Second, to my distant cousin, Narcissa Malfoy: I leave my family home, which can be found at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, as well as my personal agreement to that matter we discussed when last we spoke; to that end, I also solidify your marriage to Lucius and, in the event of the death of my primary candidate, I also leave the Lordship to Draco.

Next, to Lily and James, I leave only my understanding; you did what you had to do and I don't hold it against you: I'm sorry Prongs, but, at the very end, I know and understand who I really am and I hope that you do too;

Finally, to my son-in-all-but-blood, Harry James Potter; I leave three things:

Firstly, I leave the title of Lord Black and the mantle of the Heir of Slytherin; this also gives you access to Noir Palace and Black Island; it also officially gives you a fortune that people worldwide would kill for;

Second, I give you a warning: you _cannot_ trust Dumbledore or the Weasley Family under any circumstances; if the part of you that people say is James holds out, then I can guess that you are a Gryffindor and, quite possibly, an enemy of Draco Malfoy; Harry, if I knew you and you loved me, then you'll reconcile this relationship.

If you wish to know why, then, as your legal guardian, I hold the right to tell you: Lily and James were your real godparents and, contrary to popular belief, they were not Light, but Dark Wizards who, like the Marauders, were spies…for your real parents: you see Harry, your _real _name isn't Harry James Potter, but Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, the son and heir of…Voldemort and my cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. The truth is not something for me to reveal, but, if you're confused by this, then I ask you to trust in Lucius and your _real_ family: Lily and James, if they died, did love you like their son, but they had to keep to the belief or you could have died.

In closing, I can only say that I am sorry to Harry for not knowing of his true identity before this time: Harry, if you're listening to this and you didn't know who you are, then please pup, as a last favour to me, do one thing: give Dumbledore and the Light a living hell and let me watch from the next great adventure as you ascend to greatness."

Harry, feeling a mixed sense of fear, confusion and finality, then watched as Sirius turned his head, those baleful eyes looking into Harry as the spirit asked, "Can you promise me that?"

"I…I promise," Harry whispered, watching as the spirit then faded away, Ragnok rolling the parchment up as he looked to Harry, his eyes dark and foreboding.

"Revan," Hermione whispered, startling Harry as she took his hand, "Your Father named you after your ancestor."

"I know," Harry remarked, before a smile tugged at his lips as he added, "And Lily and James were my godparents; why do I get the strangest feeling that there's more to my life than people have wanted me to believe?"

"May I ask what you mean by that remark my lord?" asked Ragnok, watching as Harry's smile was accompanied by a low, but clearly emotional chuckling that threatened to erupt into a wave of hysterical laughter.

"I mean," Harry answered, "It's almost like my parents wanted me to hide with the last people that the Light would suspect, knowing full well that my destiny would oblige me to choosing to side with darkness: which also means that the so-called Master Manipulator has no idea of who I really am."

"So," Hermione put in, "What does this mean for your inevitable encounter?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, "We'll just have to wait and see: Ragnok? I believe you were about to show me the Last Will of Master Revan, yes?"

"Yes my lord," Ragnok answered, instructing Harry to once again shed blood on the parchment, Harry still slightly on edge as to the final revelation about his parentage.

Once Harry had done so, a similar spirit rose from the parchment, before it spoke in a cold voice that the Sith Prince had no trouble recognising, "This is the declaration of Lord Revan Starkiller, Dark Lord of the Sith; through this declaration shall my heirs know their power and everything they possess."

There was then a moment's silence and, as Harry watched, the silver spirit seemed to shift until it resembled a blue figure that flickered like a bad radio signal, "Scanning blood sample: recognition: Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, Prince of the Sith and Heir of Darkness."

The blue image then changed to show two people; one was someone that Harry recognised as Darth Revan, but it was Hermione who told him the identity of the other as she whispered, "Bastila."

Revan was speaking, "I, Revan Starkiller, am honoured to recognise the blood trait of my heir, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle and, in accordance with the laws of heritage, leave him the following: the full contents of vault 421 and vault 317, as well as everything located in the catacombs; furthermore, my heir, Harry Riddle, is now the Lord and Master of Malachor Castle in the country known as Brazil, deep within the heart of the Amazon Rainforest."

Revan fell silent, Harry's eyes widening with shock as to what he was receiving; whatever the contents of the vaults were, they were obviously grand; Bastila took over for her ancient lover, "I, Bastila Shan-Starkiller, am honoured to sense the bond forming between my love's heir and the Sith Princess and, in accordance with the laws of heritage, I bestow upon them the following: the ancient battle cruiser known as the Ebon Hawk, which can be found on the grounds of Revanchist Isle in the unchartered regions of the Atlantic Ocean; I also hereby graft a link between Lord Riddle and his Princess, Lady Granger, which will allow the two of you to share your power and protect the other from harm; you shall also have a master-apprentice bond that will allow you to communicate with one another mentally and build on each other's strengths."

"To this end," Revan continued, "We leave you with the blessings and well-wishes of the Dark Side, as well as a request that you, my Heir, find and recover all my Holocrons and learn to harness the full power of the Force that dwells within you. Bring back the power of the Dark Side and make your enemies tremble: may the Dark Side be with you."

The image fell and Harry leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he asked, "What now Ragnok?"

"We still have five minutes before your departure," Ragnok explained, "We can retrieve the bands from Lord Revan and Lady Bastila's vaults that will mark you and Miss Hermione as belonging to one another and will also cement your bond."

"No," Harry remarked, smiling as he felt Hermione's hands in his, "Leave that task for until we return; but, on a more important note, I forbid you from allowing any of the information revealed today to leave this room unless I permit it."

"Yes my lord," Ragnok remarked, before a bell sounded in his office and, with a smile, he asked, "Shall we go then my lord?"

"Yes," Harry replied, his yellow eyes being infused with magic as Ragnok watched, a glamour covering them, turning them into Harry's classic emerald-eyed appearance, the armour being hidden by Harry's robes as he explained, "Once we arrive, Hermione and I will deal with some personal business and shall be staying with friends, but, once again, I thank you for everything you have done Ragnok: truly, you are an ally of the Sith and I, as its Prince, am honoured to call you my ally."

"I thank you, my Lord," Ragnok bowed, leading Harry and Hermione to the transportation point.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When Harry and Hermione found themselves able to breathe again, Ragnok bowed to him before he walked across what appeared to be an open field, the Sith Prince feeling a mixture of emotions coming from the spaces ahead of them. As they walked together, Harry caught sight of a few figures from Hogwarts he knew all too well, before he stopped amidst a crowd of tents and what appeared to be Muggle trailers, a smile crossing his face.

Seeing the grin, Hermione asked, "What is it love?"

"All this is so Muggle," Harry whispered, walking in stride with his princess, "If Malfoy is going to be here, he'll have a heart attack."

"Not so my lord," Ragnok spoke up, obviously doubling back when he found Harry and Hermione had stopped, "The more important clientèle have private tents that are more like what the Muggles would call marquees: your personally-booked tent is one such design, though it is registered as a Gringotts tent so that no-one connects you to the money and power you have inherited."

"Smart move," Harry remarked, following Ragnok across the field, a warm August sun shining from overhead as Harry crested a hill that was clearly marked as _VIP Bookings._

He was right too: in front of Harry were fifty or so large and clearly spacious tents that were designed like the circus was in town; when Ragnok noticed the look on Harry's face, he chuckled as he explained, "Notice-Me-Not Charms and Deception Wards."

"You mean similar to those that protect Hogwarts?" asked Hermione, Harry looking to his girlfriend curiously. "When a Muggle looks at Hogwarts, they see nothing more than a crumbling building and, because they look upon it from the side _away_ from Hogsmeade, they don't notice the students and staff coming and going."

"And you are correct in your assumption my lady," Ragnok explained, stopping besides a tent that was coloured to match Harry's armour, the crest of Gringotts clear on its entrance post. "This one is yours my lord: I requested this one personally for you so that your allies could join you, which reminds me: where is Hunter Killer?"

"With our allies," Harry explained, "As I told you when last we spoke Ragnok, I have acquired the assistance of Mandalore the Shadow and his legions: if they are going to join us, then that is what they will do. However, they are also here as a guard for our stay and to ensure that there are no hiccups while here at the World Cup: now," he grew into the commander that he had become as he exclaimed, "I will see you again at the match Ragnok and then, once that is done, we shall meet back in your office on the 29th August."

"As you wish my lord," Ragnok bowed, "May your swords stay sharp."

"And may your fortunes flow forever," Harry returned, watching as Ragnok walked away, the Sith Prince slipping from his kind persona into the dark prince that he was as he addressed Hermione, "Right; let's get settled in and then we'll go and make nice with our friends and neighbours."

"What about the Weasleys love?" asked Hermione, resting her head on Harry's shoulder as he turned to their marquee.

"We'll deal with them as and when we meet with them," Harry answered, "If the Force is on our side, then we'll not meet with them, but, knowing chance, it'll be a long shot."

Hermione watched as Harry pulled back the flap of their large tent, but, when she saw inside, she shared in her boyfriend's awe: the inside of the tent looked like an apartment the likes of which would be reserved for royalty or even found in the exclusive areas of Hogwarts. There was a fully-functioning kitchen and living room, complete with a small bookshelf and a private bathroom; a door led away from the living room into what appeared to be a training circle of some sort and, from there, Harry and Hermione then found the bedroom, which, to their mixed emotions of relief and bewilderment, held only one king-size bed and a makeshift window that appeared to glance out the back of the marquee.

"Well," Harry sighed, returning to the kitchen, where he found a well-stocked supply of food and drink; there was even Butterbeer, Firewhiskey and alcoholic beverages, "If you can afford it, then you can live the life of luxury."

"And Ragnok certainly _can_ afford it," Hermione laughed, watching as Harry removed a freshly chilled bottle of Butterbeer and, tossing one to Hermione, cracked it open and downed it slowly.

When he took a breath, he asked, "What do you want to do now?"

"The match is tomorrow morning," Hermione explained, "And we have time to kill: what do you say we split up and explore?"

"All right," Harry sighed, before he placed his bottle, now empty, on the kitchen side as he walked over to his princess, taking her hands as he added, "But before we do that, let's try and tap into this link we've been given by Bastila."

"All right," Hermione agreed, "What do we do?"

"Close your eyes," Harry told her, "And try to seek me out through the Force; meanwhile, I'm going to think a thought and, when you can hear it as if I was speaking to you, then let me know."

"How?"

"When you hear it," Harry replied, a sly smile on his face, "You'll know."

Harry calmed his own mind, keeping his thoughts focused on this moment as he held onto his love; after what appeared like an hour, he felt a presence walking among his thoughts and, before he could say another word, Hermione had reached up and kissed him, her lips and tongue exploring his mouth as she then spoke without moving her lips. {I think you're my dark angel as well, my Sith Prince.}

{You heard that?} asked Harry, fully aware of how to link his mind to another: after all, he had spent three days with his Master's consciousness, so accepting a friendly mind into his own subconscious was child's play. {Well it's true; now, keep the link open to me and me alone.}

{Yes my love,} Hermione replied, finally moving her lips away from Harry's as she turned and, giving her lover an almost tempting view of her backside, Hermione walked out of the tent.

"Gods above," Harry laughed, "I love that woman!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

The Quidditch World Cup was as big an event as Harry had heard about: there were people here from every walk of life, though, within the VIP Booking area, that amount was restricted to those with power and influence and, after only two hours of meets and greets, Harry found the one person he had wanted to meet here.

An emerald green and silver marquee was setup in the farthest corner of the area and, engraved on the welcome post was the crest of the family Harry had hoped to meet with. Stopping outside, Harry lifted his hand and knocked on the post, his voice slipping back into his old self as he called, "Hello in there!"

"It can't be!" laughed a familiar drawling voice, Harry smiling as Draco Malfoy stepped out from within the tent, the Ice Prince's eyes widening as he saw Harry dressed in finery, looking far healthier than he had ever been before. "Oh my god it is," droned Malfoy, sarcasm clear in his voice, "Potter: come for begging sessions have we?"

"Not from someone like you Draco," Harry remarked, his eyes growing cold as he added, "I'm actually here to speak with your Father: is he in there?"

"Preparing himself for the match," Draco answered, "Father and I are in the Minister's Box; by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself."

"I see," Harry replied, before he pulled himself up to his full height as he explained, "Well, my date and I are in the personally reserved Council Box; by personal, and welcoming, invitation from Chief Ragnok Silverbane himself!"

"Merlin!" gasped Draco, faltering in his arrogance for the first time since Harry had known him, "I thought I was connected: how does someone like you earn tickets like _them?_"

"Connections," Harry replied, before he gestured to the tent as he added, "Connections that I am _perfectly_ willing to share with you and your family if your Father will allow me a moment of his time. Tell him these words exactly: it's to do with his female cousin and the being known as Revan: he'll know what it means."

As Draco returned to the tent, Harry seemed to linger for a moment, before a cold grin crossed his face as he heard the crash of what was clearly expensive china; waiting with baited breath, Harry saw Malfoy exit once more, his face pale as he said, "Father says you can come in."

"Thank you," Harry sneered, striding into the tent, noticing straight away the similarities between this tent and his own, though it was clear to him that this was a marquee that Lucius owned himself as there were decorations suited to the Malfoy Family, least of all being a large portrait that held what appeared to be the Family Tree.

Walking through to the kitchen, Harry smiled when he saw Lucius Malfoy sat there, a rather beautiful-looking woman sat at his side, both of them looking welcoming, but Harry could sense – and see – that they were shaking with fear. When Draco walked in behind him, Lucius spoke up, "Draco, why not go and see if your friends have turned up yet: we will meet you for dinner later."

"Yes Father," Draco replied, leaving the tent almost immediately; Harry, on the other hand, traced a delicate finger over the surface of the equipment and work-tops, before he stopped right in front of the Malfoy Elders, his voice like ice as he stared deep into the eyes of the man who, not two years prior, had threatened his life after losing his House Elf. Lucius' pupils were dilated and, at his side, the lovely-looking Mrs Malfoy was staring at Harry as if she had seen a ghost.

Realising he was enjoying this a little too much, Harry leaned in close to Lucius and, throwing all happiness and traces of the old Harry Potter out of the window, hissed, "How nice of you to invite me into your marquee…Uncle Lucius!"

Lucius visibly flinched, Lady Malfoy gasped and Harry just sneered as he straightened up, the Lord Malfoy staring at the boy in shock as he managed to gasp out, "You…you know?"

"Know what?" asked Harry, taking a seat on the opposite side of the work-top, "That Lily and James are _not_ my parents and that the man who took their lives, the Dark Lord Voldemort, is my Father? Yeah," he shrugged ruefully, before dropping all the glamours on his body and armour, revealing the Sith Prince that he was, "I do know."

"Harry?" gasped Lady Malfoy, "Is it really you?"

"It is Lady Malfoy," Harry replied, before he held up his hand and added, "Sorry, should that be Lady Narcissa?"

"You can call me Cissa if you want to," Lady Malfoy explained, "You're alive?"

"Did you doubt otherwise?" asked Harry, looking to Lucius as he added, "Surely you knew that Lily and James were spies? Surely Lucius here told you that we met not two years beforehand and he threatened my life?"

"You did _what?_" gasped Narcissa, "Lucius: Bella will have your head served to Nagini if she hears of this."

"I imagine that'll be a small mercy compared to what my Father could do," Harry laughed, looking to the two Malfoys as he added, "So, Lucius, when did _you_ know who I really was?"

"When you confronted me," Lucius explained, his eyes lowered as he saw his mistake, "I didn't want to believe it, as I didn't know of Lily and James' place with the Dark Lord."

"I don't think anyone did," Harry sighed, "Other than Sirius, Remus and my parents: oh, by the way, Aunt Cissa? You're named in Sirius' will as the new owner of Grimmauld Place and your marriage to Lucius is set in stone."

"And the new Lord Black?" asked Lucius, looking up at Harry.

"You're looking at him," Harry explained, "Along with Noir Palace and the Black Island, but that's small change compared to what I've inherited from my other heritages."

"Yes," Lucius nodded, "I figured as much when Draco mentioned Revan: so, you have come into the power of the Force and gained the mantle of Sith, have you?"

"If you wish a taste of my power Lucius," Harry growled, red lightning dancing at his fingertips, "Then keep going: but, back to my original point: I know now who my parents are and, to put it simply…"

He stood up, Lucius and Narcissa watching the Sith Prince, watching their nephew, as he turned and walked over to the portrait of the family tree, looking closely at it; when he found what he was looking for, Harry took a sigh before he continued;

"I want to meet them."

As Lucius and Narcissa gasped at the admittance of the supposed enemy of the dark, Harry continued to stare at the point on the tree that he had found:

_BELLATRIX LESTRANGE – TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

And beneath that was the final piece of the puzzle that Harry needed to finally accept what he had been denying since his visions:

One name:

_HARRY SALAZAR REVAN RIDDLE (31/07/1980 - ?)_

**Episode 6 is completed and Harry's request startled Lucius and Narcissa, but will they oblige it?**

**Also, what will happen when Harry meets the family and, in the case of canon, is Bella actually there or will Harry need to rescue her?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Sith Prince meets up with some old friends and seeks to prove his point; also, the D.E. Attack gives Lucius the chance to grant Harry his request, but can it be covered up or will people figure out that Harry is Voldemort's son?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: I have changed this to a family fic, but I am still going to keep Harry as dark as he has been; now, the story will be based – without the copying from the original this time – on my 500 reviewed story: The Riddle Answered!**


	7. Episode 7

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 6:**

**Zamia: I received your full review through PM and agree with everything you said;**

**DestroyerDRT; I have no idea, but I enjoy reading and writing this particular FF topic because it leaves so much to the imagination;**

**Sakura lisel: I suppose he could have done that, yeah ;-)**

**BioHazard82: Don't worry, I planned on keeping that part canon, but her escape WON'T be;**

**YugiohFreak54; I assure you, he won't be getting away with harming Harry or threatening him;**

**King1367: Then you should enjoy this chapter;**

**MariusDarkwolf: I actually have a plan involving Bella and Harry's meeting and, as for your pairing, all will be revealed on that front soon;**

Episode 7: The World Cup Pt 2

Harry remained in the company of his Aunt and Uncle for only a few moments longer as he explained about how everything had changed, before Lucius gave Harry his word that he would find some way for Harry to meet with his Father, the young Sith Prince sharing a small smile with his new relatives as he told them, "Do what you can Lucius, leave the rest to me and, no matter what, don't tell Draco…yet."

"As you command, my Prince," Lucius bowed, watching as Harry replaced his glamours and left the tent, his emotions slightly easier to handle than before. The truth of it was that, through his visit to the Malfoy's tent, Harry had managed to gain a few answers as well as see what kind of parents Tom and Bellatrix would be: Narcissa's reaction to Lucius' threat had seen that confirmed.

_Flashback_

_"Lucius: Bella will have your head served to Nagini if she hears of this."_

_End Flashback_

'Clearly,' thought Harry, wandering back through the VIP areas towards the main encampment, 'My real parents think the world of me and, even though they are dark wizards in their own right, they show love and respect for their son and heir.'

As he reached the edge of the encampment, Harry suddenly stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as if some kind of static charge were nearby; checking to see if he was being watched, Harry calmed his emotions and whispered, "Mandalore?"

There was a sound like air rushing through a tube before the black-armoured Mandalorian Commander appeared, his helmet covering his face and his blaster at his side as he saluted Harry, "My Lord: I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," Harry replied, meaning it as he knew that his Force Perception would always warn him of nearby dangers, "What do you have to report?"

"The Weasleys have arrived," Mandalore answered, "As has my escort and I was wondering if my Lord would like to meet with her."

"Yes to your escort," Harry replied, before he added, "As well as the warriors that you have chosen for your entourage, but I will meet with the traitors in my own time; lead on my friend."

Mandalore saluted again before he turned and, re-activating his stealth shielding, led Harry through the encampment towards a small ring of tents that were more like Muggle camping tents than the marquees Harry had seen. When they stopped, Mandalore removed his shield and called out, "Hello to my brothers; may our deaths bring us honour on the battlefield and our weakness bring us shame."

"Hail Mandalore!" came three replies, before Harry watched as three other Mandalorian-armoured warriors appeared seemingly from out of the air, each one the typical silver colour of the Mandalorian Elite, though one of them bore a mark on his chest-armour that displayed an emblem of honour.

Once they were all revealed, Mandalore bowed to Harry as he explained, "My Lord, allow me to introduce Kilthane, Sicarius and Ferrox, my three most loyal of warriors and the only members with the Mandalorians who have seen my face. My brothers-in-arms, allow me to introduce the heir of Darth Revan and the new Prince of the Sith, Lord Harry S…"

"_Don't _use that name here," Harry snarled, looking to the Mandalorians as he explained, "You know me as Harry Potter, but that is not my real name nor is it the truth of my family: Mandalore," he looked to his shadow warrior as he ordered, "We will talk more inside!"

"Yes my Lord," Mandalore replied, stepping over to a grey and white tent that, as soon as Harry pulled back the flap, made the young Sith realise just how people enjoyed magical events such as these. He had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen, which also held a crested shield that he noticed bore the mark of the Mandalorians, a suit of armour standing next to the crest that Harry supposed was meant to be some kind of great treasure.

As Harry went to sit down at a small table in the kitchen, Mandalore walked over to a sink where fresh water flowed freely, Harry laughing as he thought about the fact that the camp _was_ meant to look like a Muggle campsite. When the commander caught his Lord's smile, he gave a slow nod of understanding as he explained, "The Shadow Legion's finest for their commander: even comes with a handy little distraction shield that means we can appear to be living like Muggles, but, if we use the equipment in here, they don't even notice. Comes in handy on missions and encampments such as the one that, if it is your wish, we will provide for your return to Hogwarts, my Lord."

"Thanks Mandalore," Harry smiled, watching as the leader returned with two mugs of hot tea, the other three Mandalorians remaining standing until Mandalore reached up and removed his helmet, exposing the familiar face of Neville Longbottom.

"Nothing's too much where you're concerned Harry," Neville explained, before he indicated the three Mandalorians as he added, "Sit."

They sat.

"Now," Neville continued, running a hand through his dark hair, "Against what my guardian has advised, our Lord has given me an order to drop this accident-prone Squib-wannabe that I have been playing the role of; as his personal warrior, I have chosen to accept and obey his order, but now that we can speak freely, there is something you must know about our Lord."

"Yes," Harry nodded, looking to the three as he asked, "Before we continue, I must know: is Nev…Mandalore the only wizard among you?"

"Yes my lord," Kilthane answered; he had a rather deep voice that appeared to be tinged with some kind of African lineage; he was the warrior with the emblem on his chest that, when Harry looked closer, he actually noticed to be a black dragon of some kind, though it was admittedly smaller and more defined than any dragon he had seen.

Kilthane, seeing Harry's look, smiled as he nodded, "I see you noticed my marking, my Lord: very well, I should say that Mandalore is the only wizard who attends your school and knows you personally, but Sicarius, Ferrox and I are all enchanters, each of us based on a magical beast; mine is the legendary wyvern and my magic is based around the element of fire."

"Similarly," Sicarius continued, Harry gasping as he heard a female voice beneath the helmet, albeit one that sounded Eastern European. "My marking was made on my flesh and is that of the manticore; my element is that of the wind and rain."

"And mine," Ferrox explained, his voice sounding the youngest of the three, his tone suggesting he came from the regions of Australia, "Is that of the wyvern's larger counterpart, the dragon: though my element is that of the water and the powers of the ice."

"The point is," Neville put in, silencing the three almost immediately, "I am the only wizard, but the Shadow Legions are all enchanters, charmcasters, illusionists and other such magically-gifted beings, so you don't need to worry about your secrets being leaked."

"Besides," added Kilthane, "When we are marked as the three of us have been, we swear what you would call an Unbreakable Vow of allegiance to Mandalore and his ways; to betray his trust, especially that of the honour that the three of us have as his Elite, is to sacrifice your own life."

"Very well," Harry nodded, before he looked to the trio as he explained, "As Mandalore was about to tell you outside, my name is not really Harry James Potter, but Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, the son and heir of the Dark Lord Voldemort and, from the way that none of you are flinching at the name tells me that you would be willing to continue your servitude to me, am I right?"

"Yes my Lord," the trio answered, all three of them saluting Harry as the young Prince took a long drink from his mug.

"Now," continued Harry, "Being who I was made to believe that I was, it's perfectly natural for you to understand that I do have doubts about this, but soon, I intend to meet my birth parents and get some answers; you three were chosen by Mandalore personally to come here and meet with me, so I hope you can understand the honour and privileges that I allow you to use as your Lord."

"We do, my Lord," Neville answered, Harry smiling with a sense of calmness as he realised his words had power behind them.

"Also," Harry continued, "As you are all aware, I _am_ the Heir of Darth Revan and, as such, I have acquired the use of the unchartered Revanchist Isle; now, I'm not going to use that place as a base of operations."

"You're not?" asked Ferrox.

"No," Harry answered, "But _you_ are: that's right," he added with a smile, seeing the armoured Mandalorians all tense up as if shocked, Harry feeling that, if he could see beneath their masks, their jaws would be dropped. "I hereby give Revanchist Isle to the Shadow Legion to use as a training encampment and residence for the Mandalorian Order: as my personal warrior, Mandalore will be the only one who will speak with me about events on the island and, as far as who goes there, I limit the island access to Elites and future Elites only: Mandalore," his face softened as he added, "Neville: do you accept this?"

"I do Harry," Neville answered, "Thank you."

"Also," Harry added, "Despite my heritage, there is an island and castle that I do have as Heir and Lord to the fortunes of Sirius Black; Black Island will be a residence that I will take in a couple of years but, for now, should there be any reason for the Sith Prince that I am to rear his head, missions or any other reason, then we shall meet on the Island for the briefings."

"Yes my Lord," the three saluted, Neville slowly nodding as he realised he should never have doubted Harry's level of power or use of the resources at his disposal.

"Now," Harry sighed, "On a lighter note, I think it's time I meet this escort of yours Neville."

"Of course Harry," Neville agreed, rising from his seat and disappearing into the bedroom; when he emerged, he was dressed in wizard's robes and looked a little bit like the Neville Longbottom that Harry had known at Hogwarts. Looking to his warriors, Neville commanded, "You have your targets and your orders; wait until after the match for your report; until then, go."

"Yes Mandalore," the trio remarked, turning and walking out of the tent, Harry smiling to himself as he saw their stealth shielding being activated, which just left Harry and Neville, who gestured for his young lord and friend to take the lead.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Neville guided Harry from one side of the encampment to the other as they made their way to where Neville's escort was staying, the young commander explaining that the camp they had left was that of the Elite, whereas Neville was here with his escort and her family, his grandmother taking care of his affairs with the Mandalorians.

Before they reached the camp, however, Harry suddenly stopped dead as a familiar voice echoed through his mind, {Harry, where are you? I need your help!}

{Mione,} Harry remarked, his glamour almost falling as he turned to Neville, {Where are you?}

{Three sets over from where you're standing,} Hermione answered, {Harry, they won't let me leave.}

{Then I'll make them,} Harry growled, before he looked to Neville and, keeping his tone as Harry-like as he could, commanded, "Follow me: seems we need to make a little detour."

As Neville nodded in response, Harry took off in the direction that Hermione had told him, the walk across the set – which was the equivalent of three rows of tents – taking mere minutes as Harry was empowered by his will to protect the one he loved as well as finally meet with the betrayers and the ones that Sirius had warned him against.

As he reached the edge of the camp, Harry didn't need Hermione's directions to guide him as he heard a familiar voice asking, "Why didn't you stay with me Hermione? What can Harry give you that I can't?"

"Get off Ronald," Hermione snapped, Harry moving in the direction of the voice, "You could never be what I want and I would never stay with you: why are you so insistent that you think the sun shines out of your ass?"

"Harry did this to you," Ron's voice told her, Harry then hearing a sound like flesh striking flesh; _that_ was enough; tapping into the power of the Force, Harry quickened his pace and reached Hermione's side in seconds, Ron Weasley's hand held up, a red mark on Hermione's cheek as Harry held onto her, Neville appearing seconds later.

{Harry,} whispered Hermione, {He tried to drug me.}

{Hush love,} Harry remarked, holding his girlfriend in his arms, {I'm here: where's HK?}

{I told him not to appear no matter what,} Hermione answered, {He must have gone back to Ragnok: it's not his fault, it's mine.}

"Are you all right?" asked Harry, holding onto her as he gave her a small kiss on her forehead.

"Y-yes," Hermione stammered, sobbing into Harry's robes.

"Harry mate," Ron gasped, Harry trying his hardest not to electrocute the spiteful little bastard here and now, "I had no choice mate; she was disrespecting Sirius' name and said that he deserved to die."

"You know something Ron?" asked Harry, pulling Hermione to her feet as he held onto her, "If you're going to lie," he then fixed the red-head with his fiercest glare as he added, "Make sure that I can't hear the truth in the first place!"

"I-I-I d-d-don't know w-w-what you mean," stammered Ron, Harry shaking his head as an image of Professor Quirrell suddenly appeared in his mind, Hermione's sobs now passing as Harry calmly let go of her, Neville standing with his friends as Harry squared off against Ron.

"What did you think?" asked Harry, his voice like the grave as he hissed, "That I'd be grieving Sirius' loss forever and you'd just waltz in like the bumbling fool that you are and make me feel safe? That I'd be thankful enough to reward you with something while you continue taking advantage of my Hermione?"

"Your Hermione?" laughed Ron, "What are you talking about Harry? It's Ginny that's meant for you; I mean come on; who else but me would be good enough for Hermione?"

"Anyone!" laughed Harry, though his laughter suddenly seemed to match his Father's as it became cold and cruel, "_Except_ you don't see that, do you Weasley? No, you just see Hermione's knack for allowing you to get by on scraping a grade and doing your homework for you."

"Well what else is she good for?" asked Ron, gesturing to Hermione as he added, "I always said it Harry: she's a nightmare and it's no wonder she doesn't have any friends!"

"She does," Harry remarked, stepping back and pulling Hermione into his arms once more, Neville standing tall and proud at his lord's side, "She has me."

"And me," added Neville.

"And she has parts of me that other girls would kill for," Harry told Ron, his Force Perception taking notice of the jealousy and rage that was rising within Ron as he explained, "Hermione has my heart, my soul and my body and, when we're both old enough, she'll have even more of me. Also, she's been in places that most girls _would_ kill to be in: my bed and in my arms."

"Slut!" Ron snapped, but, before Harry could say another word, a high-pitched voice broke the silence.

"Ronald Weasley!" Harry watched with amusement as Mrs Weasley came over to her youngest son, her eyes a look of anger, "How dare you use such foul language here? Do you realise how fortunate your Father was to be able to get a hold of those tickets?"

'Sure he was,' Harry thought, Mrs Weasley clearly not very good at keeping her secrets locked away. {From what I see,} he explained to Hermione, {Guess who's vault helped pay for those tickets?}

{Bitch.} snapped Hermione, though she remained encased in the arms of her lover, {Harry, can I shock her?}

{Not yet,} Harry grinned, before he spoke out loud, "Mrs Weasley, before anything else is said, perhaps we could say hello to the rest of the family?"

"Oh," gasped Molly, as if she had just noticed Harry's presence, her eyes adopting the same looks of jealousy and rage as she saw Harry and Hermione in each other's arms, "Of course Harry dear: come this way."

{Clearly,} Harry remarked mentally, {Subtlety is not a word in the Weasleys' dictionary.}

{At least not since your eyes were opened to their treachery it's not,} Hermione agreed, following the two Weasleys over to their tent, where Harry actually heard Neville snort, before he coughed heavily to cover his laughter as he saw the Weasleys' all laying on the poor-family stitch-up, all of them gathered around a make-shift campfire that actually flickered as Harry's presence was made clear.

"Arthur," Mrs Weasley remarked, "Look who's here? Where's Ginny and the twins got to?"

"Looks like they went inside," Harry answered, before he raised his voice and called out, "Hi Ginny; Gred, Forge; you _can_ come out you know?"

The tent was opened and the three aforementioned Weasleys stepped out, Harry catching sight of someone he hadn't met before among the crowds; a new Weasley with shoulder-length red hair and a fang through one ear, his robes looking _mildly_ better than those of his family and, when Harry looked closer, he caught a flash of memory from the previous summer – the newspaper article about the Weasleys.

{That must be Bill,} Hermione reasoned, {But…it's strange.}

{What is love?} Asked Harry, watching as the twins shook his hands, making some remark about it being absolutely spiffing to see him so healthy.

{Well,} Hermione answered, {We know that we can't trust the Weasleys, but the deception that I sensed in Ron and Molly isn't affecting him, nor is it affecting Ginny.}

{Really?} Asked Harry, before he looked to the small group as he added, {Shame Charlie's not here: he'd be interesting to read, see if this little jealousy bug has only chosen to ignore the eldest and youngest: what about the twins?}

Hermione glanced in their direction, smiling when they said hi, before she explained, {They seem to be focused on something called Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and were apparently promised the means to start their own joke shop. Sorry Harry, but it looks like it's just the two of them; the rest of the pack is like a pack of hungry jackals chomping at the bit.}

{Then let's make this worth their while,} Harry remarked, before he looked to the Weasleys.

"Well," he groaned, "I'd love to stay and catch up, but you see, Hermione and I were given personal invitations and I can't really ignore them: come on love, let's get back to our marquee and Neville?" He then turned to the commander, who seemed to pick up on the sense of amusement from his lord as Harry added, "Why don't you join us?"

"Great," Ron laughed, "Come on then Harry: let's go and…"

"I believe," Harry retorted, looking at Ron with an expression of mock surprise, "I invited _Neville_ and, since you're name is Ronald Weasley, it means that you're not invited; oh, but…one more thing."

In a flurry of motion, Harry grabbed onto Ron's wrist and twisted it sharply, a loud crack sounding throughout the camp as Harry growled, "If you _ever_ lay a hand on Hermione again, I'll make you wish I'd left you in the Forest back in our second year with the Acromantulas: Ginny and…Bill, is it? If you want to join us, then please feel free; just look for the red and black marquee with the Gringotts Crest outside."

"O-Okay Harry," Ginny nodded, "Thanks."

"Thank you Mr Potter," Bill replied, "I will consider your offer."

"Please Bill," Harry remarked, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice as he added, "Call me Harry."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"Bastard!"

Red lightning flew through the training circle within Harry's marquee as the Sith Prince dropped all of his glamours and unleashed hell on the targets, tapping into his magic to aid in his rage.

"No-brained Dead Man Walking!"

One of the training dummies suddenly lost his head…literally;

"And that bitch who dares think me as her son!"

Another dummy was disintegrated in a plume of flames;

"All of them!"

An entire ring of dummies were thrown back, falling to pieces as if they were nothing more than skeletons, Harry's rage slowly passing as he looked to the training area's proverbial safe zone where Hermione was watching her lover vent out his frustration, her red mark now healed courtesy of her own Force powers, the familiar form of HK now standing at the edge of the circle, as if he was expecting trouble.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, daring to speak in an attempt to soothe the raging dragon that had suddenly come alive within her boyfriend. "If our suspicions are correct, it's _not_ all of them and, if that's true, then we can use this, especially for your forces when you meet with your…"

"I know love," Harry cut her off, his eyes shining with the full feral power of the Force, "I just can't believe what they thought was the right thing for me and for that stupid, demented cow to think that her _Ickle Wonniekins_ was the only one good enough for you just makes me feel worse."

Seeing that her lover wasn't going to unleash any more powers, Hermione stepped into the circle and took him into her arms, her lips caressing his as she reached into their bond, {You are the only one good enough for me, my love; you're my Knight, my Champion and my future King of Darkness. Don't worry yourself so much my love, for soon we will be able to dangle those traitors by their throats and rip the very life from their bodies.}

{You had me at Knight, my Princess,} Harry remarked, his anger passing as he kissed his lover, both of them allowing the other access to their mouths as their kiss deepened, Hermione moaning as she found her Harry finally giving her access to him. When they parted, Harry pressed his forehead to Hermione, before he whispered, "I promise you this Hermione; he will _never_ be able to lay another hand on you as long as I live and breathe and, if he dares to try, then you have my permission to choke the very air from his lungs."

"Thank you my Prince," Hermione replied, before she straightened up and, taking Harry's hand, added, "Come on; we need to get ready for the match tomorrow."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Harry and Hermione met up with Ragnok at 9am the following morning, Harry not all that surprised to find the goblin leader escorted by the Malfoys; he had suspected that his relatives would want to keep an eye on him, possibly in an attempt to arrange this meeting with the Dark Lord. As they walked out, Harry remained close to Hermione, while behind him, Lucius and Narcissa shared a look of surprise at their nephew's choice of girlfriend, but, if the rumours that they had heard were true, then saying anything – Merlin forbid that they use the M-word – about her would really piss Harry off.

Lucius made a mental note to mention this little warning to Draco in case his son should say anything wrong to his cousin, not that Draco _knew_ this of course.

The Quidditch Stadium was, in a word, _massive: _Harry guessed that it had to seat some twenty, if not thirty to three-hundred-thousand people at any one time and, as Harry climbed up the stairway towards their specially-reserved box, his emotions darkened as he heard a familiar annoying voice above them, "Blimey Dad, how far up are we?"

"Well put it this way," Lucius remarked, Harry smirking to himself as he saw the Weasleys all looking down, an easily recognised look of horror in the eyes of the traitors as the Malfoy elder continued, "If it rains; you'll be the first to know."

"No real need to boast Mr Malfoy," Harry remarked, deciding that this would be perfect for Stage One of his revenge, "But Hermione and I were invited by Master Ragnok Silverbane himself and we're going to be up in the council boxes: best seat in the house apparently."

"There's no need to boast with these people," Lucius added, Harry trying his hardest not to laugh as Bill looked and saw the goblin leader in front of Harry, "So do enjoy yourselves won't you? While you can!"

After that, the small gathering continued climbing until they reached a box that, like Harry's marquee, was decorated with the Gringotts Crest and, as soon as Harry took his seat with Hermione on his lap, Lucius and Narcissa either side of them and Ragnok in a raised seat – possibly given to him as a mark of respect for the goblin chief – Harry rounded in his seat as he asked, "Ragnok, what do you know of Master Weasley's loyalty to Gringotts?"

"Only that he is a truly noble member of the clan," Ragnok answered, looking to Harry as he asked, "Are you inquiring as to the small matter revealed when last we spoke?"

"I am," Harry answered.

Ragnok just nodded, knowing that Harry would not want business discussed here; instead, he explained, "Well, you have nothing to worry about from Master William; he has been checked, double-checked and triple-checked several times since his start with us eight years ago; if there were any signs of deceptions, then his first day's duty would have removed them."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"On his first day," Ragnok explained, "Master William was taken by my predecessor, Dresden, into the more important areas of Gringotts and, one of these areas was protected by our most powerful of wards known as the Thief's Downfall, which removes all sources of deception from a witch or wizard: if Master William were under any kind of compulsion, it would have been lifted there and then."

"I see," Harry replied, turning back in his seat as he looked to Hermione, a soft smile on his lips as he found himself whispering, "I wonder…"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

After the match, Harry and Hermione returned to their marquee where Lucius said it had been a pleasure to get to know the young Lord much better and that he was willing to offer Harry another chance at friendship, during which Draco held out his hand in the same manner as three years beforehand, though this time, Harry accepted the hand.

"Now," he added, looking to Lucius, "What about Hermione?"

"What?" gasped Draco, "Father, you can't expect me to…"

"I can and you will," Lucius replied sternly, "Shake Miss Granger's hand and accept her as your friend as well Draco."

"Yes Father," Draco replied, though he seemed to hesitate to extend his hand and shake Hermione's, a look of mixed revulsion and disgust on his face as he inclined his head to Hermione.

"Believe me," Harry grinned, a shark-like smile crossing his face as he added, "One day Malfoy, you'll thank your Father for doing this: anyway, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to take a little rest. See you on the train?"

"Maybe even sooner," Lucius replied cryptically, before, unseen by all except for Harry, he mouthed the word, "Tonight."

Nodding with understanding, Harry turned and walked into his marquee, immediately making for the fridge where he cracked open another bottle of Butterbeer, tossing a second to Hermione and then, as he turned back, he smiled and tossed a third.

Hermione watched as the third sailed through the air, before she laughed as Neville appeared, his Mandalore armour covering all except his head as he asked, "Am I ever going to be able to sneak up on you Harry?"

"Nope," Harry laughed, smiling at his friend as he asked, "What's the report?"

"Kilthane explored the camp while everyone was at the match," Neville explained, cracking open his own drink as Harry sat with them, "He says there was someone skulking around and speaking to something that looked like a House Elf. He didn't catch much more because the figure then seemed to vanish, even though there are Anti-Apparition wards around the camp and the stadium."

"I see," Harry replied, before he looked to Hermione as he added, "It's tonight: Lucius told me; do you remember what we discussed?"

"I do," Hermione replied, "But I don't like it."

"I won't be gone long," Harry assured her, "Just long enough to get some answers and make my final decision: Neville, when Hermione leaves, go with her."

"Yes my Lord," answered the commander.

"Go to the Chalice," Harry instructed, "Marcellus will look after you there; I have this feeling about him that assures me of his loyalty; when I'm done with what I need to do, I'll join you."

"All right," Hermione sighed, before she leaned up and kissed her boyfriend on the lips, "But be careful."

"I will," Harry assured her, watching as the hours seemed to roll onwards towards the moment he had waited for over the past 36 hours…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Lucius' scheduled time of appointment was bang on; at 9pm that night, a loud explosion filled the air and, as Harry walked out of the marquee, dressed in his mask and armour, he saw them: by the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Harry squinted at them...They didn't seem to have faces...Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Harry saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

As Harry watched, he smiled at the chaos, before he watched as Neville, now dressed in full Mandalore attire, and Hermione, dressed in her red and black robes, began to move through the throng of people, Harry turning and making his way in the other direction where, no sooner had he started moving than he stopped, one of the masked figures standing in front of him.

With a cold smile, which was unnoticed beneath his own helmet, Harry asked, "So Lucius, this was your idea?"

"Not mine," answered the masked figure, approaching Harry and withdrawing a wand, "Your Father's; take this wand; it will take you straight to him."

"What about you?" asked Harry, half-afraid for his uncle and half-confused, "What are they? What are you?"

"Death Eaters," Lucius answered, "Your Father's personal Inner Circle of witches and wizards; any minute now, all the world will know he's coming back, but you, my Prince, get the first meeting: go…now!"

Harry nodded and took the wand, his eyes looking to Lucius as he whispered, "Thank you Uncle," before he heard Lucius speaking…

"Activate!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When the world stopped spinning, Harry found that he was standing in the entranceway of what appeared to be a large and very exquisite manor house, topiaries and stone statues all around him, each one of them holding some kind of dark motif as Harry stepped forwards, pushing open the large doors and entering a rather welcoming-looking main hallway.

The floor was decorated in black and silver tiles that seemed to criss-cross one another, a long green carpet stretching up a large rotund stairway that reached a landing where it then split off into two directions, Harry looking up at the stairway as he recognised the setting as the one from his dream/vision.

Stepping forwards, Harry tapped into his magic and seemed to banish his armour into the magical ether, his dark robes and yellow eyes making him look almost twice as intimidating without his armour as he had been with it. Following the stairway, Harry recalled his vision and followed the steps of the now dead man, turning up towards the left side of the stairway, following the passageway until he heard a voice speaking in front of him. "The mission was a success my lord; they ran like frightened rabbits and your followers did themselves proud."

"Excellent," hissed a weak, though dark voice, Harry finding himself standing outside the same room, the same chair with its back to him as he waited, "And our guest?"

"If all has gone to plan," the first voice replied, "He is already here."

"Then we need not wait," the second voice insisted, "Wormtail, the door!"

Harry didn't flinch this time as the door opened and he found himself looking into the same room from his vision, the mysterious man from his vision kneeling before the chair, Wormtail cowering in the corner as the second voice called to him, "Step inside Harry; let me see you."

Harry, his legs feeling like jellied lead, moved forwards, trying to maintain his dark persona as he stopped behind the chair, his eyes catching sight of the snake from his vision now circling the chair before she began to slither up its back and fix her golden-coloured eyes on him. She then snaked her tongue out and puffed at his cheek, before she hissed, /Welcome child./

"Turn this chair around Wormtail," hissed the dark voice, "So that I may look upon him."

Wormtail scurried over and, with a flick of a wand in his hand, the rat-faced man turned the leather chair around, revealing a mysterious sight that had Harry feeling both revulsion and shock. The figure before him was no larger than a toddler, but its red eyes and almost snake-like appearance had Harry feeling intimidated and welcoming to the darkness; the figure was covered by a robe and, as he looked to Harry, a weak smile covered his lips before he spoke, "Harry, you are here at last."

Harry, yellow eyes blazing and his full attention on the creature before him, gave a curt nod of his head as he replied, "Hello Father."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Hermione walked into the Poisoned Chalice, now finding it empty except for a few sparse patrons and the vampiric owner, Marcellus walking over and bowing low, "Welcome back Lady Ventress, did you enjoy the final?"

"I did," Hermione replied, "Thank you Marcellus; I trust our room is still available?"

"Oh of course my lady," Marcellus bowed, before he looked past her and added, "It is an honour to receive your patronage my Lord."

"Thank you Marcellus; now, if you'll excuse us," Harry answered, stepping past the vampire and following Hermione up to their room, the vampire not aware of a small flash of red in the young wizard's eyes as he joined the Sith Princess.

'Perfect,' thought Hermione, watching as _Harry_ opened the door to their room and bowed her inside, 'You're doing exactly as ordered.'

As she stepped past the young wizard, Hermione nodded and, looking to him, lowered her voice as she whispered, "Well done HK: keep up the good work."

"_Statement: As you command Mistress,_" answered Harry, though his voice was that of HK-47, "_I will serve the wishes of the Master as ordered; Addendum: I hope his mission is a success._"

"So do I HK," Hermione replied, moving into their room, "So do I."

**Episode 7 and a slightly different surprise to what I had originally planned; let me assure everyone now – to save reviews saying otherwise – that HK's little double-act is an OC idea – I think – and will be explained in the next chapter;**

**Now that I have that off my chest: what will Tom and Harry have to say to one another and can Harry forgive his own Father for what he'd done?**

**Also, with plans made for his allies, can Harry discover friends from foes in those who are said to be the traitors?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Father and Son have a good old talk about everything that has happened and where they go from here; Hermione recalls Harry's plan and Neville finally introduces his escort to his Lady, but will Hermione approve and can she be trusted with Harry's secrets?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Coming soon: a HP/Xmen XOver as well as my project, which makes its debut on Halloween: all who enjoyed this story should find themselves impressed; full details on my profile…**


	8. Episode 8

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 7:**

**Zamia: I agree with the Hermione point and, as for the trust issue, it's going to grow over the year;**

**Hogwart lady: mostly, I make it up as I go along; sign of any good imagination;**

**Nym Potter: when I said about trusting with Harry's secrets, I wasn't talking about Hermione, but Neville's revealed escort;**

**LovinLife710: Draco's little parts in this will all come together when the TWT kicks off;**

**YugiohFreak54: No worries mate; you're still doing a brilliant job and I eagerly await the next chapter; btw, my GX story has been posted; feel free to take a look;**

**King1367: Not a bad idea for Fred and George, but I did say that only two Weasleys would be his allies; though I may sort something out to set them free from their compulsions; I actually forgot about that when writing about the double act; thanks for the reminder;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_Wormtail scurried over and, with a flick of a wand in his hand, the rat-faced man turned the leather chair around, revealing a mysterious sight that had Harry feeling both revulsion and shock. The figure before him was no larger than a toddler, but its red eyes and almost snake-like appearance had Harry feeling intimidated and welcoming to the darkness; the figure was covered by a robe and, as he looked to Harry, a weak smile covered his lips before he spoke, "Harry, you are here at last."_

_Harry, yellow eyes blazing and his full attention on the creature before him, gave a curt nod of his head as he replied, "Hello Father."_

Episode 8: Fire, Ice and Lightning

Settling into their room, HK, disguised as Harry, spoke with the voice of his master as he asked, "When do you think the Prince will return from his quest?"

"I don't know HK," Hermione answered, watching as the illusion-covered droid moved to the side of the room, as if he were watching out of the window, before she added, "Are you sure that you are all right with this plan?"

"It is my duty to serve the Prince in any way possible," HK answered, his voice almost icy as if he were speaking as Harry's darker nature, "And if that means tapping into my illusionary technology to protect his secret, then so be it."

"That may be true," Hermione sighed, sinking onto the bed as she watched HK move to make some light refreshments, "But I don't like it."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

It had been shortly before their departure for the Quidditch World Cup that Harry had spoken about his concerns with the approaching inevitable encounters; he knew that he would have to bite the bullet and face his demons, but a part of him couldn't help but feel afraid for what was coming. As he paced backwards and forwards through his room, Hermione watching her love from their bed, Harry had spoken his mind, "On one hand Hermione, I do wish to undertake this meeting and take on my Father, but, on the other hand, I want a chance to explore my options before I choose my side."

"And at the same time," Hermione spoke up, "You need a way for Harry Potter to _appear_ to be normal while Harry Riddle takes care of his business, right?"

"Right," smiled Harry, looking to her with the kind of smile that Hermione had not seen since that unfortunate night; the kind of smile that assured you that all would be well and that there was no need to worry. "But what can I do to undertake my double life?"

"_Suggestion: Master, you could ask me to be of assistance to your task as I have aided your predecessors in the most unusual ways beforehand._"

Looking to his assassin droid, Harry asked, "What can you offer to assist me HK?"

"_Explanation: not long after my termination of Master Revan's services, I was purchased by a well-endowed baron who saw to it that his mechanics updated my service capabilities and modes of assassination. One such way was to install a prototype holographic system that would allow me to look, sound and act like anyone that my Master so wished. Theory: while you take care of business with the Dark Lord Voldemort, I could pretend to be you and keep the other meatbags in the dark as to your true mission._"

"Actually," Hermione nodded, "That's not a bad idea, but you would need to keep to the persona that Harry has acquired HK."

"_Condescending Statement: Mistress, you need not worry as I have watched and studied the Master's mannerisms for the past month since I met him; Explanation: I predict a 100% rate of success in impersonating the Master if and when he wishes. As his personal droid and warrior, it is my primary function to do whatever my Master wishes of me no matter the challenge._"

"I think I understand part of that," Harry laughed, Hermione sharing an almost incredulous glance with him as he continued, "And I agree with everything else that's been said: all right HK, you will perform the task at hand and, as of the return from the World Cup, I will need you to impersonate me until I return."

"_Extrapolation: Master, if it is your wish then there is a process I will need to perform before I can begin my mission; I require a sample of your blood as well as a vocal recording of your voice so that my programming can match the pitch, tone and emotion with perfect precision._"

"Very well," Harry nodded, walking over to HK where, as he drew his Blood Blade, he gently sliced a wound into his finger and offered some of his blood to HK, before he spoke again, "Remember this HK: you will need to act as they see me, be it before or after the World Cup; you will need to remember that I am not the naïve little boy they think I am and, if I need this service at Hogwarts, I need to know that I can rely on you."

"_Answer: Master, it will be a personal privilege to serve your every whim and desire, though should any of the meatbags try and cross me, I request permission to teach them a lesson._"

"Permission granted," replied the Sith Prince, "But no killing…at least not yet anyway."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

'And HK has been doing well so far,' Hermione thought, recalling the chaos from the World Cup, 'When those Death Eaters turned up and fired the Dark Mark into the sky, he made himself known by pretending to be knocked out; sounds like the kind of thing that the real Harry would do.'

"Mis…I mean Hermione?" asked HK, Harry's voice sounding almost alien to Hermione as she knew who it really was.

"What is it?" asked the Sith Princess.

"I sense the presence of the Mandalorian Commander in the alley; shall I go and see what he wants?"

"No," Hermione replied, "We let him come to us: remember HK that you need to act as the new Harry and not the naïve boy that people consider him to be, do you understand?"

"Yes Princess," HK replied, Hermione keeping a private note as to the difference in mannerism between the hologram-Harry and the real thing.

'Harry,' she thought, trying not to access the bond as she knew that this was something her love needed to do on his own, 'Please come back to me soon.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"Hello Father."

"Harry," replied the baby-like figure that was the Dark Lord, "You know the truth."

"Kind of hard not to when Sirius' death practically revealed everything…oh," he then added, rounding on Wormtail, "That reminds me!"

Clenching his hand into a fist, Harry pushed all of his anger and hatred for the rat-faced man into the Force and, with a cold smile, found he was rewarded as Wormtail clutched at his throat, gasping and almost squeaking for air, Harry then noticing that his anger seemed to be moulding the Force as Wormtail's throat actually looked like someone was strangling him. The more rage that Harry pushed into his power, the tighter the constrictions became, the choke-like indentations in Wormtail's throat now looking like the traitor was being strangled with a chain.

"You," growled Harry, his voice like ice, the temperature in the room dropping to near-impossible levels as he looked at the betrayer of his _god_parents, "You should have died instead of him: you should not have run like the coward that you were; surely you knew that, in time, I would discover the truth and that I would come hunting!"

"My…Prince…" gasped Wormtail, his voice sounding hoarse and forced from his lungs as Harry's grip tightened, "For…give…me; I…did…not…wish him…to die."

"Harry," hissed the Dark Lord, "Let him go: he can't pay the piper to you if you kill him in the first round."

"Yes Father," Harry replied, his voice almost robotic as he released his hold, Wormtail falling to the ground where, as soon as he touched the ground, he retched and vomited all over the floor, thick globules of red clear among the mess, the sight of his betrayer's blood soothing the dragon within the Sith Prince.

When he was done, Harry turned back to the chair, where the Dark Lord was now watching him with a sense of hope as the Sith Prince then asked, "So, where do we start Father?"

"Ask me whatever you wish," Voldemort answered, "I will not lie to you any longer my son."

"All right," Harry replied, his yellow eyes shining in the darkness of the room as he asked, "Why did you kill Lily and James and then try to kill me?"

"It was an event that I regretted," answered the Dark Lord, "But I knew what needed to be done: however, I did not try to kill you; on the contrary, I tried to save you, but you ended up saving yourself?"

"What do you mean I saved myself?" asked Harry, looking to the Dark Lord as if he were finding it hard to believe what he was hearing, "How does a one-year old baby save himself from the power of the Killing Curse?"

"When you were born," Voldemort explained, "Your magic was greater than any your age, literally: it seems Harry that you have a power no other wizard has held, the power of Magical Redirection: in other words, you can dodge and redirect any spell, charm, curse or hex with ease. This kind of power has not been seen since the days of Merlin, Morgana and Mordred and is equally rare as a Parselmouth."

"So…what?" laughed Harry, shaking his head, "You're saying I raised my baby hand and waved the curse away? Like I tapped into the power that you just saw? What, did that mean I hadn't defeated you?"

"Yes to the first, and, as for the second; sadly not," Tom replied, "You see Harry, if you think about it, and I mean really think, the answer is there. You just have to say it to accept it."

Harry had been afraid of that: closing his eyes, he allowed his memories to bring back the nightmare he had suffered as a child; the flash of light and the high-pitched laughter; however, as he listened, Harry then realised what it was that had bothered him; the cold laughter was fake!

Furrowing his brow, Harry listened and then gasped as the truth finally came to him:

"Tom!" he gasped, "I…I see it! You're there, but you didn't cast the curse: Dumbledore did!"

"Yes," nodded Tom.

"You killed Mum and Dad and wanted to save me, but Dumbledore turns up and, seeing me in your arms, tries to make his own destiny by using me…"

"Yes," smiled the Dark Lord, "And also, as to the power you possess, you need not hide it from me; you see, your Mother and I are descendants of Revan and Bastila; you could say that we possess their spirits, which gave us the bond of family and relationship that many say I do not possess."

"Wow," Harry gasped, finally understanding a hell of a lot more than he had done when he'd confronted the Dark Lord, "And so, when he cast the curse, my eyes glow and the spell bounces off me, hitting you, but you smile at me and…your lips…they say…"

"That's my boy," Tom nodded, before he added, "And Lily and James Harry, they knew what would happen."

"Because they," Harry explained, "Like Sirius and Remus were really on your side, but, if all this is true, then why did you try and kill me again at Hogwarts?"

"In truth," Voldemort explained, "I thought I had lost you to the Light; you see Harry, you and I have the kind of bond that exists between a mentor and his apprentice, but the bond is only strengthened by the fact that we are Father and Son; when I saw you in your first year, the Crest of Gryffindor upon your robe, I thought I had truly lost you and sought only to release you. Harry, I am not asking you to forgive me, but, if you will let me, then I can give you back your family and teach you so much more about your powers…and, in return, I only ask for one thing."

"What's that?" asked Harry, his mind reeling with the revelations he had heard as of late.

"Blood," Tom answered, "Specifically; yours for the ritual that will bring me back to the land of the living as the tall and proud Dark Lord of Magic that people knew to fear and you, as Prince of the Sith, shall take your rightful place at my side and on the throne at my right hand."

"So why do you need my blood?" asked Harry, his eyes filled with a sense of scepticism as he listened to Voldemort's voice.

"The ritual," explained Tom, "Requires three essences of magical lineage: I will be using a bone of my Father and the flesh of my Servant, but, to gain my full body and magical prowess, I require the blood of my son, my heir and my successor. Once that is done, I will be reborn and we will be able to retake our rightful place as the Royal Family of Darkness."

"But what about Mother?" asked Harry, "Where is she?"

"Admittedly," Tom explained, "My dear Bella is currently a resident of Azkaban, but, if you wish to save her, then I'm sure that even Azkaban is no real match for Harry Riddle, Prince of Darkness, am I right?"

"Yes Father," Harry answered, a cold smile crossing his face as he then explained, "As to the ritual, I will give you my blood, but, until then, I don't want to hear from you or see any more Death Eaters until the night of your resurrection; I ask this favour so that I have the necessary time to make my choice as to whether I rejoin my…my family or go it alone: can I have this Father?"

"You can," Voldemort nodded, his eyes now locked with his son's as he added, "The ritual will take place on the summer solstice: June 24th and we will use the combined magic of both our Force potentials to give me my true body back and not the snake-faced monster that people believe has no heart. I will abide by your request my son…on one condition."

"Yes Father?"

"You are not to try and avoid the path I have chosen that will lead you to that inevitable night: you will take the days until then as if you were still the Harry Potter that people believe you to be."

"As you wish," Harry replied, looking to the other two men in the room, Wormtail now trembling as he caught his Prince's gaze on him, the other man still kneeling before Harry and Voldemort as the Dark Prince asked, "Does he have anything to do with your plans?"

"Yes," answered Voldemort, "And he will be my only agent in the field who will be there to keep an eye on you; other than that, you are free to do as you wish."

"And who is he?" asked Harry, looking to the wild-haired man with eyes of strength and determination, "If he is going to supposedly put my life in danger, I will need a name."

"Bartemius Crouch Junior," answered the man, now kneeling before Harry as he looked into the Sith Prince's yellow eyes, "A humble and ever-lasting servant of the Dark Royals and, for what I must do my Prince, I now pledge my life and services to you, as your servant and soldier."

"Thank you Barty," Voldemort gasped out, "Now leave and see to the task I have set you."

"Yes milord," Crouch answered, leaving the Dark Royals alone as Harry turned from the door and looked to his Father, his yellow eyes now slightly darker than before.

"Now that I know the truth," Harry explained, "There is more to the story, but that can wait until we next meet Father; in the mean time, there is something you should know."

"And what is that my son?" asked Voldemort.

A cold, truly malicious, smile crossed Harry's face, a part of him knowing that Voldemort would probably have an aneurysm when he heard it, but it was almost fair game in his eyes as he answered, "Oh nothing much…well, except for the name of the one who Bastila recognised as her Heiress!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When Harry returned to the Poisoned Chalice, he was slightly surprised as to the fact that Marcellus didn't really pay attention to the blatantly obvious misdirection used by the Sith Prince; however, when Harry ascended the stairway to his room, removing all of the glamours on his armour in the same moment, he gave a soft sigh and opened the door.

Before he could step through the door, Harry gasped as he found Hermione practically leaping into his arms, her warm embrace wrapping around him as she held onto him, her voice speaking through his shock as she asked, "What did he say? Did it all go well?"

"It went exactly as I intended Princess," Harry answered, placing a soft kiss on his lover's forehead as he asked, "What's gotten you so riled up anyway? You knew I would find a way to come back to you, even if it had been nothing more than a trap."

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione replied, "After what happened at the World Cup, I guess I felt a little on edge; anyway, now that you're back, we have a visitor."

"Yes," Harry smiled, "Mandalore; I sensed his presence a mile away: come on."

Taking her hand, Harry led Hermione through into their room where he found his armoured ally, the now normal form of HK-47 standing alert as he saw Harry and Hermione walking into the room. As Harry closed the door to his room, he then picked up on another presence in the room; with a slow smile, he pushed out with the Force and chuckled to himself as he heard the expectant whooshing sound that came with a stealth field being de-activated.

"Who's your friend Mandalore?" he asked, turning to his armoured defender, noticing that he had forsaken his helmet and now looked upon Harry with a mixed expression of relief and respect.

"The escort I brought with me to the World Cup," explained Neville, before he nodded to his companion, who Harry then noticed to be dressed in a set of wizarding robes, a more streamlined, athletically-moulded suit of Mandalorian Armour underneath the robes as the figure pulled down a hood, revealing a pair of ice-blue eyes that shone from beneath a head of dark blonde hair.

"Daphne Greengrass," Harry remarked, stepping forwards, his mental defences reaching out to the girl as he ran a quick mental check over her, finding only a sense of loyalty as well as a mask similar to that displayed by Neville; her Ice Princess appearance was simply put to hide the fact that she…

"What?" laughed Harry, pulling out of his probe as he added, "Is this for real?"

"Is what for real my Lord?" asked Daphne, looking from Harry to Neville as she seemed to ask for an explanation.

"Sorry Daphne," Neville answered, "I should have warned you that Harry would likely perform a quick Legilimency on you to see if your allegiance and trust in me were legit; oh, and if you've just found what I think you have, then yes Harry, it's for real."

"What did you see Harry?" asked Hermione, looking up as her lover's face still showed blatant amusement as to his discovery.

"Neville," gasped Harry, "You mean to tell me that your parents set up a betrothal between you and Daphne?"

"Yes," Neville answered, "Shortly before they…they were sent to the hospital, my parents wanted to make sure that I kept to my destiny as Mandalore, so they found a suitable pureblood family who would act as the perfect cover for the both of us: Daphne here was the lucky winner."

"Your parents are in hospital?" asked Hermione, slightly shocked as to this, "If you don't mind my asking…what for?"

"They were tortured," Neville answered, "I was barely 18 months old at the time: it was made to look like an attack by leftover followers of…of…"

"My Father," Harry replied, before he looked to Daphne as he added, "You don't need to hide it Daphne; I predicted that the Slytherins would have an inkling of their Lord's son being alive."

"I know my Lord," Daphne replied, before she swept her hand over her head and bowed to Harry, "And may I say that it is an honour to be in your presence once more; I only hope that I can serve you with the same loyalty shown by Neville and the Shadow Legions."

"Actually," Harry then smiled, a sense of inspiration coming to him as he explained, "There is something you can do for me."

"Anything," Daphne remarked, before she coughed and added, "I mean…anything, my Lord."

"Then," Harry laughed, "You can call me Harry: you're my friend Daphne and, although we don't know each other that well, I want you to know that I do trust you; just be aware that failure will not result in a mild stinging hex, but with a personal taste…of this!"

Red lightning flew from Harry's fingertips, his robes blowing all around him in the breeze of his power as the Sith Prince then added, "Don't let me be the one to hurt you."

"Yes my Lord," Daphne answered with a gentle bow of her head.

**Episode 8 comes to an end and Harry has some decisions to make and new allies to adjust to, but can he keep his word to Voldemort and keep to the Harry Potter that he was or will the Dark Prince decide to come out and play?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Fourth Year is finally here and Harry learns of the way that his Father plans to use the events for his resurrection; also, it seems that Harry's guess about Slytherin's knowledge was bang on as he has a meeting he never would have expected…with SALAZAR SLYTHERIN!**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Coming soon: a HP/Xmen XOver that will see Harry leaving Hogwarts behind and embracing a whole other destiny; also, check out my newest HP story: Mystic Rising;**

**It seems that this month, I'm going Cross-Over Crazy!**


	9. Episode 9

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 8:**

**T4: I have plans for Harry to be resorted through the events in the TWT, but I'm not saying much yet; also, I may have him form relationships and allegiances with the other champions, but Diggory is STILL going to die: reason being: I HATE Robert Pattinson;**

**YugiohFreak54: I may have a Harry and Fleur encounter in which our miss allure tries her tricks on the Sith Prince, but learns what happens when you stare into the eyes of the Dragon;**

**MariusDarkwolf: He's going to accept it, but he's not going to leave it until the end to figure everything out; not with all the resources at his disposal;**

**King1367: not so much as sparks, but there will be a discussion between _Moody _and Harry regarding what's going to happen;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_"The ritual will take place on the summer solstice: June 24th and we will use the combined magic of both our Force potentials to give me my true body back and not the snake-faced monster that people believe has no heart. I will abide by your request my son…on one condition."_

_"Yes Father?"_

_"You are not to try and avoid the path I have chosen that will lead you to that inevitable night: you will take the days until then as if you were still the Harry Potter that people believe you to be."_

_"As you wish," Harry replied…_

Episode 9: The Triwizard Tournament

Following the surprises and mysterious revelations from the Quidditch World Cup, Harry began to re-examine his training and his studies into his powers, occasionally using either HK, Mandalore – aka Neville – or Hermione as a sparring partner, the latter of the three always happy to help further her lover's thirst for power as September First drew closer.

When Harry had his second meeting with Ragnok, he found that the so-called letter from Lily and James confirmed what he already knew to be true as well as saying that they were more than happy to give their lives if only to end the façade that they had been living, but not before James pointed out that Harry had been named as sole heir to his fortune as his godson and that Lily had given everything she held dearly to Harry's mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, as a final tribute to their legacy and the life of their son.

All too soon, the usual feelings of angst and wonder came to the Sith Prince as September First came around, both he and Hermione agreeing to meet with Neville and Daphne on Platform 9 ¾, though, as they prepared to use Veiling to get to King's Cross, Hermione spoke out with a concerned thought on her mind.

"Harry, while I know that you won't really mind keeping yourself strong, what will we do about the red-headed traitors?" she looked to her lover with apprehension, noticing that he seemed to keep to his attire choice, his dark armour hidden underneath his Hogwarts robes, the magic of the Sith Prince adjusting the robes accordingly so that his armour didn't bulge out.

"We need to try and maintain the image of the Gryffindor that we are," Harry answered, walking across the room and, taking Hermione's chin in his hand, he kissed her lips as he added, "But we don't have to keep to the students that we once were: we know that Neville and Daphne are our allies and I will see about adding my _dear_ cousin Draco to that list, but, as for the Weasleys, we give them one chance. HK!"

The bronze assassin droid materialised into being, his red optics flashing as he asked, "_Query: you summoned me Master?_"

"Yes," Harry answered, "You're coming with us: keep your stealth field up and avoid contact with anyone that would possibly de-activate your cloaking device. Only show yourself if I command it and, once we reach Hogwarts, do _exactly_ as I tell you to do, understand?"

"_Answer: Master, it will be my pleasure to obey your every command, but what of the meatbags whom the Mistress call traitors?_"

Harry smiled coldly, his Sith-yellow eyes falling behind a veil of emerald green as he asked, "Why do you think I'm asking you to come with us?"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Harry was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention, but, when you possess the powers of the Sith, hiding your presence and ensuring no-one notices your movements was as easy as breathing.

Tapping into their combined powers, Harry and Hermione used the Force to unleash a wave of energy that would avert the gaze of any on-lookers, their sense of sight simply put out of focus, as if Harry and Hermione were something out of the corner of their eye that they chose not to notice. When they were done, the two Sith Royals lifted their little power from the environment and strode confidently towards the familiar shape of the Express. The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts.

As they wandered towards the back of the train, Harry pricked up his ears as a familiar set of voices seemed to echo down the platform, "I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

Keeping their distance, Harry and Hermione moved around the outer edge of where the Weasleys' voices were coming from, the Sith Prince keeping his attention on the voices from the train.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it...it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Wonder what all that was about?" asked Hermione, watching as Harry reached the end of the train, using the power of the Force to help them load their trunks and carriers onto the train, the hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickling as HK – hidden by his Mandalorian technology – walked right past his master and stood protectively by the door.

"Guess we'll find out when we reach Hogwarts," Harry surmised, boarding the train and moving to the window, taking a seat and watching as Hermione closed the door behind them, the Sith Prince heaving a sigh as he realised that he was safe to be himself now that he didn't need to put up with Ron on the train journey.

Taking a seat next to him, Hermione watched Harry apprehensively before the Sith Prince smiled at her and, lifting his arm, allowed her to curl up next to him, his dark princess sighing with relief herself as she then asked, "How do you think people will react to the new you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Harry calmly, running a soft hand through her hair.

"You've grown," Hermione explained, "Not to mention the fact that you don't wear your glasses anymore and you've got some muscle on you as well as the fact that, if someone walks in on you at the wrong moment, they'll see your armour."

"Do I look like I care?" asked Harry, watching the door carefully, as if he was expecting trouble, but, then again, given the past three years of train journeys, trouble was pretty much unavoidable. "Once I get to Hogwarts," he explained, "I'll make sure that no-one can say anything about the new me and, besides, if you think I'm spending a year with the Human Foghorn after what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, you've got another thing coming."

"So what _will_ we do love?" asked Hermione, a light chuckle escaping her as she knew all too well who Harry was referring to with the Human Foghorn comment.

"Well," answered Harry, "I'll have a busy year; I know this already thanks to Father explaining about his plan for me, a plan I gave my word that I would go along with, but, at the end of the day, I am still the Heir of Slytherin and so, if you're not afraid to do so, we'll stay in the Chamber of Secrets."

"How?" asked Hermione, "I mean, aside from the rotting Basilisk corpse and the large statue, there's nothing else there, is there?"

"Au contraire," Harry smiled, before he lifted off his right gauntlet, exposing a silver ring that bore the Slytherin Crest, "Look what I managed to acquire when I spoke with Ragnok; apparently, all I have to do is reveal this ring to the Slytherin statue and I'll unlock Salazar's hidden complex that, according to Ragnok, has the spatial capacity to house a small army, which can come in handy for a certain set of armoured allies that we know and trust."

"The Mandalorians," Hermione smiled, before she looked to where HK's energy signature was located as she added, "Besides, couldn't we also ask HK to cover for us if we went down there?"

"No," Harry answered, earning a look of shock from his lover as he explained, "We're not going to hide the fact that we're different Hermione; no, HK will be with us in the Chamber as a main guard and defence; we're simply relocating ourselves down there so that we can entrust our safety to the magic of Hogwarts and the legacy given to me by Salazar Slytherin. Besides," he added, giving his girlfriend a sly smile, "While we're down there, the Complex has certain wards that hide magical use down there, so we can build on our spell repertoire and also practice our Force Powers without anyone noticing or interfering in our plans."

"Oh," Hermione gasped, snuggling into Harry's side as she added, "Okay; I'm sorry Harry; I should never have doubted you and your power."

"I know love," Harry smiled, holding her close as he felt the usual shudders of the train beneath them, the brick and industrially-decorated signs of King's Cross Station being left behind as they made themselves comfortable.

As the train rolled on, Harry tried his hardest to keep his mind off the possible theories as to his Father's plan and how the mysterious Barty Crouch Junior was involved with it, but, the more that he tried to keep his mind off the tasks at hand, the more he found the theories rearing their heads, comparing them with what had happened beforehand.

'It can't be a dangerous treasure this time,' Harry thought to himself, 'Because I'm pretty sure that Albus Child-Killer Dumb-as-a-door wouldn't resort to that card again, so we can count that off. Also, I highly doubt Lucius would dare to cross Father once again by smuggling something of his into Hogwarts; no, whatever my Father's plan is for Hogwarts, it has something to do with me, heh, surprise, surprise; but it has something to do with me and his eventual resurrection on the summer solstice.'

His train of thought – no pun intended – was suddenly ground to a halt when the door to their compartment opened, revealing a familiar round-faced commander, escorted by his Ice Princess of Slytherin, neither of them really trying to hide their relationship as Neville gave Harry a smile and inclined his head, "Hiya Harry, Hermione: mind if we join you?"

"Course not," Harry replied, nodding to the seats opposite him as he added, "Try and keep away from the door; I don't want any unwelcome visitors trying to barge their way in here."

"Okay," Daphne replied, stepping inside with her betrothed, both of them taking their seats as the Mandalorian Commander dropped all pretences, his eyes on Harry as if he were worried for his leader.

"Any trouble?" asked Neville, watching as Harry returned his attention to the rapidly-growing countryside scenery outside the window.

"None," Harry answered, before he asked, "Scouting parties?"

"Kilthane, Sicarius and Ferrox," explained Neville, "All three are waiting for the train to arrive in Hogsmeade Station; I'm guessing that HK is in this room due to your warning about the door."

"Half-right," Harry answered, "HK is here, but I actually _don't_ want unwelcome visitors, so that's why Hermione and I are huddled together…not that she minds, of course, right love?" He placed a soft kiss on Hermione's forehead as he then asked, "How are you Daphne?"

"I am well my P…I mean Harry," replied the fourth-year Slytherin, a part of her mind recalling how Harry had given her permission to use his name. "May I ask a question?"

"You just did," Harry laughed, sharing a smile with the Ice Princess as he added, "But go ahead."

"I was just wondering," Daphne explained, "What are you going to do about the truth, especially where the Slytherins are concerned? Surely by what happened at the World Cup, they'll have a vague suspicion of the return of the Dark Lord, won't they?"

"Excuse me," Harry replied, suddenly gesturing to the door, a loud click resounding through the compartment as Harry then cast several wandless privacy charms, his yellow eyes revealing themselves as he hissed, "Can you say that a little louder Daphne, I don't think Dumbledore heard you in his office!"

"F-forgive me Harry," Daphne gasped, "But this is what I mean by my question: the Slytherins may or may not know of the fact that you, Harry Potter, are in fact the son of their Lord, but if they do, then they'll find it hard to keep to the Gryffindor-hating attitude that they have for you."

"Perhaps," Harry agreed, "But that's why I'm going to find a way to orchestrate a resort and get myself into the snake pit, but Daphne, I want you to help me send a message to the Snakes."

"I…I'll do what I can, my Prince," Daphne replied, inclining her head to Harry in a bow of respect, before she gasped as she saw Harry once again reveal his Lord Slytherin ring.

"Good," Harry nodded, before he went into his explanation, "Now, I know that she can take care of any real problems herself, but I want you to help me point out the dangers of using that damned M-word in earshot of yours truly: I want it known that any mention of that word is going to bring some rather," a sly, cold smile crossed his lips as he whispered, "_Shocking_ consequences for using that word in my presence: can you do that Daphne?"

"I'll do what I can Harry," Daphne nodded, her agreement set in stone by the looks of loyalty and trust that she was giving the Sith Prince.

"Good," Harry smiled, "Now that's also the other thing: don't allow anyone to call me anything but my first name or Potter, which means that there will be no mention of Lord, Prince or any kind of title that could draw attention to my knowing the truth. On a similar topic, how is it that you know who I really am, anyway?"

"My Father," Daphne explained, "He was among those who were tried by the Ministry nearly thirteen years ago and, when the Dark Lord was destroyed, he was one of the ones who fled; apparently, the Dark Lady Bellatrix had warned him about her son and said that, if they should ever meet you, then the Inner Circle were to give you all their respect and attention. Any that didn't would meet death and, if they were really lucky, it wouldn't be you who cast the final blow."

"That _is_ interesting," Harry remarked, an icy smile crossing his face as he asked, "Tell me Daph' what do you know about my Mother?"

"She was sent to Azkaban," Neville answered, his immediate response startling Harry as the two allies met each other's gazes, "After the Dark Lord was destroyed, Bellatrix went on a rampage and, if what I heard was right, she tortured my parents, but I know that's not true."

"How?" asked Harry, a curious look on his face at this in-depth revelation at the personal side to his family's history.

"Because," Neville answered, "When my parents decided my betrothed to be Daphne here, your Mother was one of those present and, although she was a Dark Witch, my parents understood that I had to answer my Mandalorian destiny and so they told the Dark Lady that she had their allegiance, especially after what happened on Halloween night."

"So now they're in hospital for being supportive allies of my Father," Harry remarked, "Which means that someone else's family has suffered because of the ego surrounding a certain headmaster and his ways of the Light."

"Exactly," Neville agreed, "Which is why I won't have a problem joining you on the night of your parents' return and kneeling before them; hell, I'll even take the Dark Mark if it's what they want for me to prove my allegiance to you, but, in the meantime, I'll obey your request to become the pureblood Heir that I really am."

"Thanks Neville," Harry nodded, the Sith Prince looking back to Daphne as he added, "By the way, what about your sister Astoria?"

"She knows nothing about this," Daphne explained, "When my Father was threatened by your Mother, he only told me because he knew how close to you I would be through my betrothal: Astoria wasn't present at the ceremony, nor was she old enough to understand. Don't worry," she added, seeing Harry tense up in a sense of angst, "I won't say anything to her until the time is right: she _is_ a Slytherin and her duty is to the legacy of our House, but, when the Dark Lord returns, I'll do whatever you want me to."

"I appreciate your…" Harry suddenly trailed off as he looked from the Ice Princess to the door of their compartment, a cold look crossing his face, the lights within the compartment suddenly darkening as Harry seemed to pick up on something.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, following her boyfriend's gaze.

"We've got a mouse in the house," Harry answered, lifting each of his charms and removing the lock on the door, before he stood and opened the door, his emotional state spiking as he found Ron Weasley standing outside the door, a look of shock and mixed rage on his face as he saw the new Harry yet again.

"Oh," gasped the red-head, "Harry mate; I wondered who was in here and, well, I thought it was you because I've been…"

"Aw," Harry sighed, a mocking tone clear as a bell in his voice, "Was the ickle Wonniekins lonely without the Big Bad Harry Potter to protect him? Well I am sorry, but I'm afraid I don't consider those who physically assault my girlfriend to be worthy of my friendship, so, let me give you two words of advice Ron: good and bye."

"Assault?" asked Ron, dumbstruck as he stared at Harry, "Harry mate, I told you: she was disrespecting Sirius' memory and…"

"And if you don't stop it with the broken record treatment," Harry finished, "I'll show you what a real smack in the mouth feels like…oh," he then added, looking to Ron's arm, which he saw to be perfectly healed, "I see Mummy kissed Ickle Won-Won's boo-boo all better!"

"Do you know what?" snapped Ron, clearly revealing his true colours as Harry seemed to finally touch a nerve, "Screw you Potter: here I was feeling sorry for you; I mean look at who you've got for company: a Squib and a slimy snake."

"I don't see a Squib," Harry remarked, now drawing himself up to his full height, "The only people I see are a pureblood Heir and Heiress, not to mention my girlfriend; oh, and for your information Weasley, snakes aren't slimy; they're cold-blooded animals that are only considered slimy if they live in the waters. Otherwise, their scales are as soft and smooth as glass…here," he reached into his pocket and withdrew a wand that was different from his old wand – one that he had custom made in Knockturn Alley – before he commanded, "_Serpensortia!_"

A long black snake emerged from the end of Harry's wand, baring its fangs and unfurling its hood as Harry looked to the snake, his voice colder than ever as he spoke in Parseltongue, /Sorry for disturbing your slumber my friend, but would you mind slithering up my arm and I will keep you warm./

/A Speaker?/ gasped the snake, watching as Harry kneeled down by its side, its fangs bared in a threatening gesture, /And a powerful Speaker; the hatchling of the Master!/

/Yes,/ Harry replied, a part of him amused at the look of sheer terror on Ron's face, /I am the Heir of Slytherin and as powerful as you suggest: if you obey my words, I will not send you back into the darkness, you have my word./

/Thank you Speaker,/ the snake replied, before it began slithering up Harry's arm, winding itself around his shoulders; however, as the snake puffed Harry's cheek, the Sith Prince felt his magic suddenly spiking, the snake emitting a gasping hiss before it spoke. /Speaker, you are the Snake Prince and we have just bonded./

/Then that makes you my familiar,/ Harry countered, /But how? I mean, I just summoned you, didn't I?/

/You did,/ the snake agreed, /But I am a magical serpent known as an Amazonian Blood Cobra, a brother to the Serpent King and a distant relation to the Fire Lords./

/Snake King,/ Harry gasped, /The Basilisk, which means the Fire Lord must be the Dragon./

/Yes,/ the cobra replied, /And I am honoured to be considered worthy to bond myself with the Snake Prince: I pray that I serve you well: what shall you call me Master?/

/I name you,/ Harry trailed off, his mind racking through suitable names, before he smiled and replied, /I name you Dracul, after the original name of Count Dracula, though the name itself also means _The Dragon_; I think it fits./

/It does,/ Dracul answered, puffing once more at Harry's cheek as the Snake Prince, Sith Prince and Dark Prince – all in one – looked to Ron Weasley, who looked one more Parseltongue-spoken word away from pissing himself and possibly collapsing.

"I think he likes me," Harry replied, a cold smile on his face as he looked at Ron, "Why don't you stroke him and it'll show you that snakes are _not_ slimy."

"K-K-Keep away from me," Ron stammered, stumbling backwards as Harry lifted a hand, petting Dracul fondly, "Y-You've changed Harry; y-y-y-you've become a Dark wizard: you're n-n-n-not worthy to be called a G-G-Gryffindor."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Harry answered, before he stared at Ron dead-eyed as he added, "Though I will remind you of this warning: lay another hand on Hermione and you'll need to sleep with one eye open, because I'll send my friend here to give you a little nip in the bud…or maybe I'll sic him on whatever _thing_ you call a pet these days."

Ron fled, screaming all the way as Harry, smiling coldly, returned to the compartment, sealing it instantly as he looked to his friends and allies as he explained, "Guys, meet Dracul; my first familiar."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Hermione, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

As they continued along the passageway, Harry suddenly had a flash of warning pass across his consciousness; holding out his hand, he stopped everyone from moving, just as a certain red-head seemed to prove Harry's pre-determined fears right.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, though it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks, the Sith Prince not even bothering to make any attempt to counter the damage; he was already soaked through from the rain and Weasley's dog-like showering.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. "PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat, Harry keeping hold of her hand as he watched the scene unfold before them; buried within his robes, Dracul hissed his distaste at the interruptions, but Harry ignored his familiar as he continued looking to the Deputy Headmistress.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.

Harry, Neville, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," said Harry, though a part of him was hating the year already as he figured it was going to be another round of 'Potter's Paparazzi' with the insolent little bastard that had hounded Harry's second year. 'Ah well,' thought the Sith Prince, 'Fools never learn much anyway: maybe they'll both die this year.'

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

They had never yet had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Harry's favourite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. He looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose - Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days, though, at the thought of Sirius, Harry felt a light electrical tingling running over his fingers.

'Cross me this year Severus,' he thought, looking to the sallow man, 'I _beg_ you!'

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

{More like he eats _like_ a hippogriff,} Harry commented over the bond, Hermione coughing hard as she heard his voice loud and clear.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, _I fell in the lake_! He looked positively delighted about it.

With a groan, as he watched the Sorting Hat play out a rather tedious-sounding song, Harry spoke through the bond with Hermione, {First the absence of the Defence Teacher and now an idiot who's related to that Muggleborn prat: Hermione, if I lose it with that asshole this year, you won't blame me, right?}

{My love,} Hermione answered, {You are the Prince of Darkness and Master of the Sith: if you lose it with any who get on your nerves, I'd consider it you being you; hell, if you truly want to give in to your true self, you can even use that name the Slytherins do.}

{I love you, you know that?} asked Harry, his hand brushing over Hermione's as he looked to the Sorting, {No matter what, I'll never stop loving you and, once I find a way out of Gryffindor, we'll both spend time in the Chamber, 'kay?}

{Okay,} Hermione replied, {And I love you too, my Dark Lord!}

As Harry pulled out of the bond, his face fell as he saw who was next in the Sorting: "Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Harry and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide…

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother. "Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

{Idiots,} Harry remarked, Hermione sharing his rage to the already-rising trouble, {Looks like I found myself a couple of willing guinea-pigs.}

{Play nice love,} Hermione replied, looking to Harry as she seemed to try and calm the waves of anger that were flowing across their bond.

{Don't I always?} Harry asked, noticing that Weasley seemed to be watching the two of them even closer; recalling what he had said at the World Cup, Harry added, {Love, make sure that you have your Force Senses check everything you eat and drink and check all of your mail: I don't trust any of the Weasleys…yet, so we need to be careful.}

{Okay Harry,} Hermione answered, before she chuckled mentally and added, {And no love, you don't always play nicely; one word: Lockhart!}

Harry chuckled with her as the Sorting finally seemed to come to a close, the unwelcome sound of Ron Weasley's complaining about his black-hole of an appetite making Harry's day hit rock-bottom.

Deep inside him, Harry felt the dragon that represented his power stirring, a thirst for death and destruction filling the mind of the Dark Prince as he tried to block out the annoyances that had crept up on him…

And it was only the first day…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry heard several members of Gryffindor gasp; he looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" Harry heard Hermione whisper, "Alastor Moody; the ex-Auror?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

As Moody took a drink from the flask, Harry suddenly had another flash of warning from his Force Perceptions, a strange scent suddenly touching his nostrils; he didn't know why, but there was something familiar about it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago, yet, as he listened, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration that turned itself into theory: a death-possibility-making tournament at Hogwarts and the strange, almost familiar scent.

'I wonder,' he thought to himself, 'Could Father have known about this?'

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours; he even noticed a rather greedy look settling into the face of Ronald Weasley, which made Harry laugh as he thought about the only thing _that_ pest could die from: starvation!

But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

As Harry stood up, he turned to Neville and, in a hushed voice, whispered, "We're all going to the Common Room and then from there Hermione and I will be performing a little disappearing act."

"Got it," replied the Commander, watching as Harry left with the other Gryffindors, all of whom were discussing the prospect of the Triwizard Tournament.

They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables.

Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it.

"Mental," Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players.

Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pyjamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.

"I might go in for it, you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to...the tournament...you never know, do you?"

"Piss off," chorused Neville and Harry, both of them watching as the red-haired asshole began his impersonation of a foghorn, the Dark Prince inclining his head to the door as Neville followed.

Making their way downstairs, Harry found Hermione waiting for them, she too was dressed in her night-clothes and, although they were only fourteen, Harry couldn't help but begin to imagine what she would look like without them.

{Watch it you,} Hermione commented over the bond, though her tone was almost seductive and amused, as if she had been imagining the same thing.

With a soft smile, Harry placed his hand against his chest, before he whispered, /Release./

A shimmer covered his body before Neville and Hermione gasped as Harry's Sith Armour covered his body, the lithe form of Dracul slithering from under his Master's clothes and placing himself around Harry's neck.

"Right," the Sith Prince commanded, "Follow me."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

/Open,/ hissed Harry, his armoured footsteps echoing through the Chamber as he, Neville and Hermione wandered into the familiar environment, Hermione's eyes wide with shock as she laid eyes on the corpse of the Basilisk for the first time, Neville whistling with an impressed expression on his face as he watched Harry approach the statue.

Lifting his hand, the Sith Prince commanded, /Speak to me Salazar Slytherin; greatest of the Hogwarts Four./

As the mouth of the statue opened, Harry removed his right gauntlet, exposing the Slytherin Ring, before he stepped forwards, crawling into the statue's interior where he found an indentation in the same shape as the Slytherin Crest; placing the ring against the indentation, Harry crawled out and watched as the entire statue began to shift and mould, almost like a giant Rubik cube, before it resembled the mouth of a serpent, the magic of the Chamber washing over Harry. Turning to his companions, Harry smiled and nodded to the entrance, "Let's explore this place."

Moving into the mouth of the serpent, Harry noticed the Chamber's magic seemed to have worked on instinct or on the imagination of its crafter: within the tunnel were three doors that stretched out in a similar fashion to the halls and tunnels beneath Gringotts.

In the first room was a fully functioning Potions laboratory and enclosed Herbology garden that looked like it was suited towards any kind of environment or soil samples. While he didn't question the purpose of this room – as a laboratory like this would serve both he and the Sith Order well – Harry wondered whether this had always been within the Chamber, sealed by Salazar himself.

With a shrug, he left the Potions lab and made for the second door; opening it, Harry found a room that seemed to be set up simply for the purpose of exercise: there were a whole array of exercise apparatus including climbing frames, nets, poles, push-up and sit-up stations and a whole wall filled with assorted weights. Looking up, Harry was then stunned to see a ceiling covered with even more apparatus that looked like it would be more suited for what the Muggles called a high-ropes course, which was complete with clambering frames, rings, zip-lines, one-rope walkways and even what Harry assumed to be simply called a leap of faith that ended in a concealed pool on the far right-hand side of the room.

'Impressive,' he thought, leaving the training room and making for the third door, not even needing to guess what lay beyond this door: opening it, he found a warm, comfortable bedroom complete with a master bathroom that would have put the Prefect's Bathroom to shame, the taps and shower heads of the bathroom designed with snakes in mind, the jets looking like they would come from their fangs. The bedroom was decorated with a curtained four-poster king size bed, similar to the beds within Gryffindor Tower, the coverings and hangings set with the four colour schemes of the four houses. There was also a walk-in wardrobe and open fireplace that looked like nothing more than a private floo connection as well as a means for Harry to come and go from this new Chamber whenever he needed to.

"Perfect," Hermione gasped, before they left the bedroom, Harry then noticing another set of doors beyond their own; opening these doors, Harry and Hermione gasped as they found themselves standing in what appeared to be a large gathering room of some sort, a round metallic table depicting several buttons and switches on its base in the centre of the room, a set of corridors leading off the room to what Harry saw to be guest chambers and a room that was filled with Bacta Tanks, which would be used for Force Regeneration and late-night slumber sessions.

"What is this place?" asked Hermione, watching as Harry ran a gentle, armoured hand across the surface of the table, his golden-coloured eyes shining brightly as he looked to her.

"This is something from Revan's time," he explained, both Neville and Hermione gasping as Harry indicated one of the buttons, which was flashing, "Can anyone else say press this?"

As he obliged with his own request, Harry watched as a holographic image appeared over the metallic table, an image that showed a man dressed in emerald green and silver robes, long pearly-white hair running down to his shoulders and cold emerald green eyes staring at Harry with a look of focus; on his robe, Harry noticed a crest that he didn't even need to guess.

'Slytherin,' he thought, 'So does that make this…'

As if to answer his question, the hologram began to speak, "_To whomsoever is witnessing this playback, welcome to the legacy of Lord Salazar Slytherin, alias Lord Veneficus, Dark Lord of the Sith: the room you are standing in is known as the Communications Room of my ancestor, the Dark Lord Revan Starkiller, and more specifically, of his ship, the Ebon Hawk. Everything in here is yours to use as you wish and everything within my complex is now your possession: to that end, with the activation of this hologram, let it be known that Vault 888 of Gringotts Bank is now available to you, as are the contents of Depository Orion Gamma in the Gringotts Private Wing. Use those contents well, my young heir or heiress and bring about the regeneration of the Sith Empire; make your enemies fall to their knees and rise tall and proud as the Sith Ruler and Dark Lord that you are to become._"

The image faded away and Harry, looking to Hermione, smiled as he nodded to her, "Well," he commented, "I guess it's safe to say that I am well and truly recognised as the Heir of Slytherin now."

"Yes you are," Hermione agreed, taking Harry's hand as she added, "But if we don't get some sleep, then your legacy as Lord Slytherin won't last much longer."

"Very well," Harry laughed, looking back to Neville as he asked, "You staying with us?"

"If you want me to Harry," Neville answered, before he looked around the room in awe, "I always heard tales of the Ebon Hawk, but never thought I'd see her: shall I have the Corps set up here?"

"Yes," answered Harry, before he pointed to the Regeneration Chamber as he added, "But _no-one_ goes in there without my permission."

Neville gave a salute before he bowed to Harry, one hand crossed over his chest and the other behind his back, "As you command, my Lord!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

It was as Harry lay in bed that night, Hermione resting comfortably against his chest, HK deactivated in the corner of the room that the Sith Prince was torn from his sleep, a note of realisation hitting him as he thought about everything that he had seen that day.

'That smell,' he thought, 'Now I remember: Polyjuice Potion! There's no doubt about it,' he looked to Hermione, before a cold smile crossed his face as he added, 'Clever plan Father: use the Tournament to get us to meet and get my blood to bring you back, which makes Moody none other than Barty Crouch Junior.'

With a sly chuckle, Harry lay back on his bed, Hermione sleepily repositioning herself on his chest as the Dark Prince allowed sleep to claim him, his last thought deciding his destiny for the year…and it was only the first day;

'Very well Father; let the games begin!'

**Episode 9 and Harry has discovered his Father's plans as well as a base of operations for his dark forces, but, now that he KNOWS, can he simply play along or will he show the three schools the power of the Sith?**

**Also, what will he do now that he knows that Moody's not Moody and now that the DMW has revealed his true colours?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry has meetings with the Mandalorians and with Crouch regarding Fourth Year; lessons with Moody reveal some home truths about Harry's survival against the AK and Draco Malfoy wants a few choice words with the Dark Prince, but none of them seem friendly; will Harry let the cat out of the bag?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Check out my newest HP story: Mystic Rising as well as An Xtreme Destiny, my HP/XMen XOver that have both been posted since the start of November; both are excellent stories in their own right and both are first attempts: my first attempt at a HP/PR story and a HP/XMen story as well as XD being my first attempt at a three-way relationship;**

**Second Note: The description of Slytherin's complex is also used in my story the Rise of Zero and the Hogwarts arrival and feast scene are taken from Goblet of Fire;**


	10. Episode 10

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 9:**

**DestroyerDRT: Well, if you find one, let me know; but remember that Harry is Tom's son because of the challenge;**

**Zamia: Well, he IS LORD Slytherin, so it makes sense that he uses his brains rather than his recklessness;**

**DalekDavros: Sounds like the kind of remark that Harry's newest allies would make; may or may not do that later; also, I know that's not a good reason, but, well, that's why the story is written by yours truly: besides, I don't see anyone NOT killing Snape – alias Alan Rickman – and he's a FANTASTIC actor!**

**YugiohFreak54: I may have a Harry Vs Viktor confrontation – not that it will last very long: also, hope you don't mind, but I borrowed an idea from ROTS about the armour;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_'That smell,' he thought, 'Now I remember: Polyjuice Potion! There's no doubt about it,' he looked to Hermione, before a cold smile crossed his face as he added, 'Clever plan Father: use the Tournament to get us to meet and get my blood to bring you back, which makes Moody none other than Barty Crouch Junior.'_

_With a sly chuckle, Harry lay back on his bed, Hermione sleepily repositioning herself on his chest as the Dark Prince allowed sleep to claim him, his last thought deciding his destiny for the year…and it was only the first day;_

_'Very well Father; let the games begin!'_

Episode 10: The Dark Knights

The next morning, Hermione was surprised when she found herself awakening, for the second time in two months, all on her own, the presence of her dark lover filling their chambers as she looked around; it was the first official day of their fourth year and Harry was nowhere to be found. Dressing in her Hogwarts robes, Hermione left the bedroom and followed the Force Trace from her boyfriend down towards – much to her surprise – the multi-purpose training room.

Opening the door, Hermione poked her head in and was surprised to find Harry set himself up on one of the push-up stations, his upper body exposed to the elements save for a sleeve-less top that was now caked with sweat around the neckline and down the sides of his body, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort. As she watched him, Hermione smiled to herself as she thought about how much the two of them had changed…and it was all thanks to this transformation of theirs: she knew that, in another time, Harry would _never_ willingly touch the darker side of his nature, not even with a good reason such as the fact that Voldemort was his Father.

'No,' she thought, watching as Harry sagged down onto the bench beneath him, puffing and panting heavily with what clearly had been a thorough morning exercise, 'My Harry would have fought against this destiny and allowed himself to be corrupted by the manipulations of our so-called caring friends and headmaster.'

"How long have you been in here?" she then asked, making Harry look up wearily as he smiled at her.

"About an hour," he replied, gasping with relieved exhaustion as he fetched a towel from the side of the room, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow and neck, before he asked, "How long have you been up?"

"Just now," Hermione answered, "What are you doing love?"

"I…I needed some time alone," Harry admitted, stepping over to a changing screen that Hermione hadn't noticed the day before, his voice carrying over the screen as he got dressed, "I still find it hard to believe that Father's plans need me to be under the surveillance of his followers when he now knows I'll accept my destiny."

"But he didn't know that until a few days ago," Hermione pointed out, watching as a familiar metallic hiss filled the room, before Harry emerged from behind the screen, dressed in Revan's Armour, his helmet tucked under his arm and his main bodily armour covered by a long flowing black cloak bearing the Slytherin Crest. "Very intimidating," she added, watching as Harry opened his other arm to her, the Sith princess accepting the invitation as she snuggled against his chest, "I highly doubt this will favour well with our teachers or the other Gryffindors."

"Hermione," Harry replied, the Sith Princess gasping as she felt his power rushing through their newly-forged bond, "Do I look like I care what a bunch of Light-worshipping traitors think about me? I stopped caring the day I discovered that those particular traitors dared to do what no-one outside Gryffindor has done: harm my beloved."

"I suppose," Hermione agreed, lifting her head from Harry's armour as she asked, "But what about Dumbledore? If he gets into your head, I highly doubt he'll be as much fun as I am."

"Which is why I perform these exercises," Harry explained, gesturing to the exercise chamber, Hermione then noticing a set of 60kg weights laid aside as Harry continued, "If I'm physically primed, then I can use that energy to shield my mind: all I need to do is create the ideal mindscape and, other than giving me a reason to burn off any excess baggage better known as rage and anger, this room also helps focus my thoughts. There's a whole bunch of treadmills and step machines through there," he gestured to the side of the room, near the large pool that ended the high-ropes course, "If you'd like to do the same love."

"I think I'd like that," Hermione replied, before she gave him a serious glare as she added, "If you, Lord Potter, do me one little thing."

"I am here to obey your every command, my Queen," Harry replied, giving Hermione a mock bow of respect as he asked, "Seriously, what is it Mione?"

"I'd like my own armour," Hermione explained, surprising Harry with the request as she continued, "Well, if Revan had armour, then surely he would have crafted some armour for Bastila, wouldn't he?"

"I see what you're saying," Harry smiled, looking to his Princess as he added, "I'll speak with HK, see if he knows of a suit and, failing that, I can ask Ragnok to forge you some armour; we could use the Basilisk corpse out there if we needed to."

"Thank you my love," Hermione beamed, giving Harry a soft kiss on the lips as she asked, "Are you going to wear your helmet?"

"Not yet," Harry replied, dropping his helmet on the ground, before he smiled at her, "Right now, my mouth has other plans."

"You always know what to say," Hermione purred, feeling Harry's arms snake around her waist, his warm embrace making her feel the same thing that she had sorely missed since starting Hogwarts:

Like she was someone who could be loved…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When Harry entered the Great Hall, Hermione and Neville at his side, his choice in attire, _including_ his helmet, had the expected reaction, not to mention the use of the Slytherin Crest on his cloak. As the three of them went to sit down, Neville waiting for Harry and Hermione to be seated before he joined them, Harry heard a very familiar icy voice call out in his direction, "Potter, what in the name of magic do you think you're doing?"

"Having breakfast," Harry retorted, his distorted voice making several of the Gryffindors shiver with discomfort, the young prince noticing a trio of red-heads watching him discreetly.

{Make sure you check everything,} Harry warned Hermione, {I don't like the looks on Ron and the Twins' faces.}

{Got it,} Hermione replied, watching as Harry calmly began pouring himself some porridge, his Sith eyes on full view under his helmet as he scanned his meal: sure enough, Harry found a laced compulsion charm in his food as well as a potion of obedience and passion directed between both he and Ginny.

Before he could make another move, Harry then heard Professor Snape speaking from directly behind him, "I can see that you arrogant little brat: I mean what do you think you're doing wearing irregular attire for breakfast?"

"Oh?" asked Harry, now putting down his spoon, making a rather indirect gesture with his hand as he switched the food in his bowl with someone else in the room; who, he didn't know, but he had to make sure that whoever it was wouldn't target Ginny: she at least, he had discovered, knew her allegiances and her allies. Instead, Harry had cast a little reversal charm of his own that would allow the consumer of the laced food to target whoever it was that had made those potions or, failing that, the Dead Man Walking.

Turning to Professor Snape, Harry then asked, "And what is regular Professor? I don't think black robes that make you look like some kind of bat are regular, not to mention robes of a rather disgusting forest-green as demonstrated by our headmaster. Oh, and what about your snakes? Every single one of them are wearing some kind of coloured clothing, especially Malfoy, who seems to take pride in laying on thousands of litres worth of hair gel and soap every morning: what's your secret Draco? Really a girl underneath all that demeanour? Or are you trying to impress someone, say Crabbe and Goyle, or maybe Parkinson?"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor Potter," Snape roared, but was slightly startled when the house point counter didn't budge a single ruby; instead Harry, mentally thanking Hogwarts for her part in this, smiled as he stood tall and firm.

"Were you expecting trouble Snivellus?" he asked, using Snape's hated name as he continued, "Because that's what you'll get if you choose to challenge me: make note of this, you greasy-haired, hook-nosed, biased little bastard! I am not the same Harry Potter from last year: you see, _your…_" he prodded Snape with the tip of his armoured finger as he spoke, "Arrogance and failure to let the past remain there robbed someone very near and dear to me of their life. If you, Mr High and Mighty, hadn't forgotten a certain potion and allowed me the chance to explain things, then I wouldn't have lost the last ties that I had to my family!"

Lightning flashed across the skies; the torches in the room began to dim and, as Harry stared down Snape, he decided to really hit the man where it hurt: if his theory was correct, then the next words would get the expected reaction. "But I'm sure that, where you're concerned Severus, my life is just one big _Riddle_ that you think I'll never discover the answer to. Well, let me say this you _dark_-loving prick: if your ferret over there is the Ice King of Slytherin, then I guess you can consider me the new Ice _Prince_, because _I know_ the answer to your _Riddle_ Severus and I'd hate to imagine what others would do if anything happened to the new Ice _Prince_ who chooses to hide in the _dark_ comforts of his armour. Now, sir, why don't you go back to your seat and I can get back to breakfast?"

The reactions from the words that Harry had chosen to put the emphasis on had the desired effect: Severus, who never missed anything from Harry in lessons, heard the declaration as clear as day: _Riddle, Dark Prince Riddle; I know._

"Before I ignore the blatant disrespect here," Severus snarled, "Tell me this: how did you know that you wouldn't lose any points?"

"Oh," Harry replied, sharing a glance with their new Defence Teacher as he added, "A little bird told me."

Severus, turning on his heel, left Harry to his own devices as the newly-proclaimed Ice Prince took his seat, just as a squeal filled the hall and Harry laughed as a familiar pug-faced Slytherin suddenly found herself racing towards Ron, her eyes glazed over and her voice as irritating as ever.

"Oh Ronniekins," she shrieked, "I love you so much: I'll do anything you tell me to dearest…anything!"

For the first time – and Harry would make sure that it wasn't the last – Gryffindor found themselves witnessing a rather impressive amount of projectile vomit leaving the mouth of Ronald Weasley as the twins stared, thunderstruck, to Harry, who shrugged and rose from his seat, moving to their sides where, armour and all, he kneeled down and hissed in their ears. "Your sister knows her allies: do you? Make the right answer, boys, and I will give you the resources to put your inventions to good use: make the wrong choice, and I'll see you both made as eager slaves for the two Gorillas in Slytherin, better known as Crabbe and Goyle."

George looked horrified at Harry's threat, but Fred, seemingly the brighter one at the moment, turned to him and whispered, "Sorry Harry; we didn't want to; you have to believe that."

"I do," Harry replied, looking around as he added, "Meet me near the one-eyed witch at dinner; we'll talk more there, but, for now, tell me: yes…or…no?"

"Yes," chorused the twins, Harry smiling with a dark expression as he returned to breakfast.

Harry piled on some food but then berated himself; he was wearing a helmet for Pete's sake! He didn't want to take the helmet off and show his face. He didn't want to alert Dumbledork or the other professors to his change.

He was so busy musing he didn't hear a soft click or that air was passing over his lips. One of the Gryffindor girls noticed however and spoke.

"Wow! Those lips sure look kissable. I envy the girl who captures your heart, Potter." The girl commented jostling Harry out of his musings.

"What?" Harry asked before he stiffened.

He brushed his gloved fingers around his lower part of his mask and was shocked to feel lips. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he dove into the food with gusto but still had manners around his dorm mates, not unlike Ronald Weasley who, seeing that Parkinson had left him alone, returned to his second-favourite pastime: eating – the first being his trait of being a lazy, good-for-nothing wanker of a gerbil.

When the timetables came around, Harry took one look at the timetable, before he growled threateningly, Hermione looking across him as she asked, "What's got your sabre in a knot?"

"Divination," Harry hissed, looking from under his partially-formed helmet to Hermione as he added, "I knew there was something that I forgot to do."

"Well," Neville offered, before he gave a suggestion that the old Neville never would have done; lowering his voice, he asked, "Why don't we cut it? You and I could use the time for some training…my lord."

"Not a bad idea," smiled Harry, looking to his commander, "Very good Neville: you're keeping your word."

"Thanks," Neville inclined his head to Harry as he added, "But, between you and me, I don't like Trelawney either: she's a real drunk who makes my blood boil."

"I believe that," laughed Harry, returning to his meal.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Harry's dark demeanour lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnegan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnegan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth that smelled strongly of petrol. Only Harry appeared to be unaffected by the smell, something that Hermione noticed as she saw him moving with ease through the task, a part of the Sith Princess eagerly awaiting the day when she too would wear her armour with pride.

They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints, though Harry secretly pocketed some of his own for what he later called _experiments_.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.

"Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Harry's opinion, though the explosions he had heard from within had potential: perhaps he was really looking forwards to having his inventors on his side after all.

They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

Harry couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

'I wouldn't mind some of those,' Harry thought darkly, 'Particularly for more experiments and defences for my more _unwelcome_ items within the complex: maybe I'll see if my soon-to-be-loyal friends have any advice, or perhaps Neville knows something that can help.'

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped, diverting the Sith Prince's train of thought. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Harry grinned under his helmet, the cool autumn environment making him feel secure within the icy grip of the approaching winter. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry and Hermione knew only too well – he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

"Now why don't you shut your mouth?" asked Harry, appearing like the wraith that he had become, his arm protectively placed around Hermione as he added, "Before I introduce you to a few of the more fully-sized Skrewts: then again, when you've snogged Pansy Parkinson, anything's better than that, right Weasley?"

Ron looked as green as Slytherin's banner as he made his way into the Great Hall, Harry counting off another success against the never-learning prat as he spoke to Hermione, "Don't worry love, I've got a few plans in mind for Weasley: rest assured that all our enemies will soon fall at our feet."

"All right," Hermione smiled, before she lifted her hand, as if searching for the switch that would pull back Harry's helmet, the Sith Prince taking her hand as she held onto him.

"Wait until later love," he advised, catching sight of a familiar blonde-haired ferret watching them, "Then I'm all yours: now, if you'll excuse me."

Stepping past Hermione, Harry held out his hand and stopped Malfoy in his tracks, the one true Ice Prince of Slytherin looking around in shock, before he saw Harry approach, the boots of his armour echoing across the stone floor as he stared down his long-time enemy…and cousin.

"Hello Malfoy," Harry smiled, "Can I have a word with you?"

"Sod off Potter," Malfoy snapped, Harry sighing as he fixed Draco with his coldest glare, his voice losing all of its friendly welcoming as he spoke.

"No Malfoy, you misunderstand: I don't want a word with you; I _say_ that you _are_ having a word with me, unless you'd like me to explain to your Father about the brash comments to my girlfriend."

"The stuck-up Mudblood…ack!" Malfoy's voice was cut off as Harry held out his hand, his fingers curled inwards in his favourite Force-based gesture, the constrictions appearing around Malfoy's neck as Harry lowered his hand, the ferret-faced fool gasping as he fell to his knees before the Sith Prince, his eyes wide with terror.

"If you value your life," Harry snarled, now gesturing subtly with his hand as he commanded, "**_You will never again call Hermione Granger a Mudblood!_** Now, Malfoy, are you going to be civil or do I need to contact Daddy-dearest about a repayment for my kindness at the Quidditch World Cup?"

"N…no," Draco gasped, gesturing with his own hand as he indicated a private room, "F…follow me Potter; we c…can talk privately."

With a nod of his head, though it looked like a mere inclination of his head to Malfoy thanks to that helmet, Harry followed his long-time enemy into a private classroom where the Sith Prince used his wandless mastery to craft several privacy wards and anti-eavesdropping shields, before sealing the room with the Force as he turned to Malfoy.

"So, what do you want that you obviously couldn't say near your friends?" asked Draco, staring at Harry as the Sith Prince reached up and removed his helmet, exposing his Sith Yellow eyes, "Bloody hell!" gasped Malfoy, "What the fuck happened to you Potter?"

"Don't tell me that you don't recognise me Draco," Harry sneered, his hands now removing his gauntlets, exposing the Slytherin ring as he added, "Or that you don't recognise this?"

"B…B…But," stammered Malfoy, seeing the emerald and silver ring on Harry's finger, "Th…that ring belonged to…"

"Go on," Harry smiled, his eyes shining with raw power as he commanded, "Say it: you know that you want to."

"T…T…T…Tom R…R…Riddle," Draco gasped, Harry leaning rather casually against the door as he nodded in agreement; staring into the emerald eyes of the Sith prince, Draco gave a gasp of shock as he whispered, "It…it can't be."

"It is," Harry replied, winking slyly as he looked at Draco, "Hello cousin."

Draco Malfoy, pureblood supremacist, Ice Prince of Slytherin and all-round proud-assed snob…then fainted…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When he was done with Draco, including a quick Force Dominator to ensure that Draco kept his silence, Harry left the classroom and made his way up to the third floor, heading straight for the statue of the one-eyed witch, his suspicions about breakfast confirmed when he found Fred leaning against the statue, one half of Hogwarts' newest generation of Marauders inclining his head to Harry as he opened the passageway.

Stepping inside, Harry then lifted his helmet from his head and spoke with true authority as he explained, "Now, before we get started, I want to hear it from you both: yes or no: did you try to lace my food so that I would leave Hermione and go to Ginny?"

"Yes," chorused the twins.

"Did you do it willingly?"

"Yes."

"Who orchestrated the plan?"

"Our mother."

"Who was the puppetmaster pulling her strings?"

"Dumbledore."

"Why should I trust you now?"

Silence…

"Fred?"

Silence…

"George?"

More silence…

"If this is a trap," Harry warned them, "You will pay for it: now **_speak!_**"

"We chose to join you," Fred answered obediently, Harry partially proud that he had managed to fine tune his Domination power so that he could use it as a wandless command as well as a Force Power. "Because we knew that something had changed in you: Sirius was our hero and we figured, only after we had done the deed that we were disgracing the Marauders by targeting you."

"Well you were," Harry informed them, "My Father, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew…"

'Who I will personally electrocute when I next see him.'

"…were considered the most loyal of Gryffindors," he had to stop himself from laughing as he spoke of the loyalty between the foursome. "By targeting the only Second-Generation Marauder, you prove yourselves inferior to them and, for what you've done, I should possibly inform Remus and get him to pay you a little visit…for a _certain three days!_"

"Harry, we're sorry," Fred gasped, Harry aware of two pairs of hands now touching his boots, both of the Weasleys now filled with fear as they knew perfectly well – thanks to Severus Snape's jealousy-driven revelation – what Harry spoke of. "We'll do anything you ask…"

"We will follow you," George explained.

"To hell and back," Fred agreed, Harry knowing their twin speech when he heard it.

"We shall do whatever you ask."

"And your enemies shall be ours," they chorused, Harry smiling as he replaced his helmet, before he snapped his fingers, a ball of violet flames igniting in his hand as he held it over the now kneeling twins, his voice like ice.

"As you say it," he told them, "So let it be done: you are now mine and you shall obey my every command; you are the first of my Acolytes and you shall become my inventors and spies within Gryffindor: in exchange for your very lives for what you tried to do to me, do you swear your allegiance?"

"We so swear, my lord," the twins replied, both of them looking up to Harry, or rather his helmet as the Sith prince smiled beneath it.

"Do you swear to keep my secrets and, on pain of death, pledge yourselves to my path and my power?"

"We so swear."

"And do you swear to honour the memory of Sirius _Padfoot_ Black and James _Prongs _Potter by serving their next in line, no matter the cost and decision? Do you swear to become my eyes, ears and tools of war in the coming battle?"

"We so swear," the twins replied, before they both gasped as Harry began laughing, bolts of red lightning shooting from his hands, the energy of those bolts coursing through their veins as Harry spoke.

"Then I, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, Dark Prince of the Sith, call upon my power to bind you to your oaths: you shall forsake the light and become my Dark Lions: Fred and George Weasley are no more; you are now my servants and warriors: rise, my Dark Knights: Knight Sion – Fred – and Knight Vader – George!"

The two Gryffindors rose obediently, both of them looking the same as ever as they stared to Harry, both of them no longer the light-driven pranksters that they were; now, they were emissaries of evil.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?" they asked in unison, Harry placing his hands on both of their shoulders as he addressed them.

"For now; nothing: you are merely observers and inventors for my sake; I have tasks that you can assist me with that involve the coming months but, once those tasks are complete, then I shall inform those whom even _I _bow to of your success and you shall reap your rewards; now, to test your oaths, I have a question."

"Yes Master?"

"Who am I?"

There was a moment's pause, before they both answered, "You're our friend and ally, Harry James Potter."

'Perfect,' Harry thought, watching as he dismissed the first of his Dark Knights, 'Everything is falling into place.'

**Episode 10 and Harry begins to form his Sith Order, but can the twins keep their darker natures a secret from the others or will Harry be forced to take drastic measures?**

**Also, what will Harry do when he and Barty Crouch/Mad-Eye Moody meet in lesson?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry has meetings with the Mandalorians regarding Fourth Year and his new Acolytes; lessons with Moody reveal some home truths about Harry's survival against the AK; the Goblet of Fire is revealed and the other schools arrive, but there's something about Durmstrang that Harry doesn't like…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: I chose to add the twins to Harry's allies after an amount of reviews asking me not to turn them and their skills against Harry;**

**Second Note: The idea about Harry's helmet being able to open like that was originally used in Return of the Sith by YugiohFreak54; all copyright to him and, if you enjoyed this story, then PLEASE go and check out that one: it's AMAZING!**


	11. Episode 11

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 10:**

**Zamia: Interesting idea concerning Fleur, but I have the majority of Harry's conversions all set up in my mind;**

**DestroyerDRT: I thank you for your opinion, and, if you think that should happen, then why not have a go yourself?**

**T4: Well, there may be a few things that the twins have planned, but their allegiance is officially Harry; other Weasleys however need some convincing and that will come over the course of 4th year;**

**MariusDarkwolf: As fun as that would be, it's pretty obvious what it is about Durmstrang that Harry's slightly uncomfortable with, or should that be WHO he's uncomfortable with;**

**YugiohFreak54: Yeah, you guessed it; also, thanks again for the idea for the helmet: from here is where things get interesting;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_'Perfect,' Harry thought, watching as he dismissed the first of his Dark Knights, 'Everything is falling into place.'_

Episode 11: Let The Games Begin

After his conversion of his Dark Knights, Harry made his way down to the Chamber of Secrets, his Parseltongue command opening the door in an instant as he made his way into the Complex, the Sith Prince noticing the three Mandalorian Elites waiting for him inside the gathering room of the decommissioned Ebon Hawk, the only signs of life around them being the electrical pulse that ran through each of the compartments and the Restoration Chamber.

Looking to Kilthane, who had stood to attention at the sight of his lord and master's entrance, Harry asked, "Mandalore?"

"He sends his apologies my Lord," Kilthane answered, "He and the Dark Lady were on their way to meet you when the caretaker caught them moving towards this room: we of the Shadow Legions are here to obey you and will do our best in the absence of our leader."

"Noted," Harry replied, before he looked to the central hologram-projector, his mind reaching out across Hogwarts as he called, {My love?}

{I am here Harry,} Hermione's voice answered, {Don't worry: I'm in Ancient Runes and will meet with you afterwards: I'm sorry that I didn't think to confound Filch, but it would have driven suspicions from Dumbledore.}

{You did the right thing Hermione,} Harry told her, his link strengthening as their minds seemed to mould, {I'll deal with the Legion and then wait for you here.}

Severing the connection, Harry looked to Sicarius and Ferrox, both of them following Kilthane's example of respect as they straightened up, before he asked, "How did you manage to enter the Complex anyway? Only a Parseltongue can enter the Chamber of Secrets and, other than my Father, I am the only Parseltongue within Hogwarts."

"I can answer that one for you my Lord," Ferrox explained, stepping forwards and revealing the dragon insignia on the palm of his armoured hand, "As Enchanters, the three of us all bear a unique power around our creature; as the Scion of the Dragon, my power is the gift of Parseltongue and, when Mandalore asked us to meet with you here, I figured that Parseltongue would be required to access the Chamber and this Complex."

"And you thought right," Harry explained, looking to the youngest of the Legion, "But you thought wrong if you believed I was all right with you intruding in my chambers without my authority."

"M…My Lord," gasped Ferrox, but, before he could speak another word, Harry pushed out with his right hand, red lightning flying from his hand and striking the young Mandalorian warrior, Sicarius and Kilthane looking on in fear and understanding as Harry rounded on the second-in-command Kilthane.

"I will forgive your insolence this time," he explained to the Mandalorian Elite, "But if I _ever_ find you going somewhere or doing something I do not wish you to do or go to, then the pain that Ferrox just felt will be nothing compared to what I will do to you: is that clear?"

"Yes my Lord," bowed Sicarius, her eyes wide beneath her Mandalorian helmet as she waited for Harry to speak.

"I hear and obey, my Prince," added Kilthane, pressing his hand to his chest in a salute that reminded Harry of the goblins as he then looked to the slowly rising Ferrox as he added, "My Lord, might I ask a personal request of the Sith Prince?"

"Depends on the request," Harry hissed, moving towards Ferrox, his Force powers healing the wounds obtained from his punishment as he whispered, "I am not without mercy Ferrox, but I do not forgive insolence."

"Thank you…Master," gasped Ferrox, Harry smiling under his helmet at the use of the M word; he was definitely getting used to hearing that.

Kilthane continued with his request, "My Prince, all Mandalorian warriors, particularly those of the Shadow Legions, are trained to recognise and bear themselves through the power of the Force: however, that being said, Ferrox is but a newblood and is unused to such power, which is why, My Lord, I ask that if he is to be punished, then please let it be by my hand and that you take your anger out on me?"

"A noble request Kilthane," Harry answered, placing his hand on the shoulder of Ferrox' armour as he continued, "I should have guessed that you would protect one another, which is why…I say yes to your request, but only until he is fully trained to brace his mind and body against the power I possess. I am not a monster, but neither am I lenient in what I choose to do to those who fail me: remember that."

"Thank you Master," Ferrox spoke up, Harry looking from under his own helmet to where Kilthane seemed to almost shiver with fear: clearly, seeing Harry in the full attire of his ancestor had a pretty intimidating effect on the Mandalorians.

"Now," Harry continued, getting to the reason he wished to speak with the Mandalorian Elites, "I asked that you come to the Complex because I have a personal assignment for each of you and, given that I now understand you allegiances to me, I feel that each of you would be perfect for the tasks at hand, but understand one thing: each of these assignments _must_ be dealt with by the time the summer solstice comes around, is that clear?"

"Yes my Lord," the three chorused, Harry moving back to the other side of the viewing chamber as he addressed the points that had come up recently.

"As you may or may not be aware," he explained, "The Triwizard Tournament is to come to Hogwarts and, given that I now understand what it is that my Father wishes of me, I cannot interfere in his plans in any way, shape or form and that, my warriors of stealth and silence, is where you three come in: first and foremost, I'd like Kilthane and Sicarius to watch over the two visting schools and inform me straight away of any potential allies or resources that they possess that I can use."

"Yes my Lord," the two replied, Harry looking to the elder Mandalorian as he continued.

"You, Kilthane, shall observe Durmstrang Academy and that does include whoever becomes their champion in the Tournament: know that I will not allow anyone to stand in my way of the objective that will come to pass on June 24th of next year. If I am to understand correctly, Durmstrang is an academy that holds even Dark Magic in pretty high regards: such studious allies and resources of the Dark shall serve me well: observe and learn all you can about them, but do _not_ allow anyone to suspect you."

"Yes my Lord," Kilthane saluted, watching as Harry turned his attention to Sicarius.

"You, Sicarius, shall observe and perform the same duties as Kilthane, but you shall perform these duties against Beauxbatons and their students: I have this sneaking suspicion that someone of your tastes and status in life will be able to blend in well with the students of that Academy. Again, you will observe and learn as much as you can and, should you find anything of use to me, report back straight away."

"Yes my Lord," The Eastern-voiced Mandalorian snapped a quick glance to Kilthane as Harry then walked to where Ferrox was still trying to overcome the adrenaline shocks he had gained from Harry's power.

"Now Ferrox," Harry spoke up, looking to Kilthane and Sicarius as he gave his orders, "Your task is actually more important than both of them combined and, if you are successful, you will have redeemed yourself in my eyes."

"I am at your disposal, my Prince," Ferrox remarked, inclining his head in a bow of respect to the Sith Prince.

"Your task," Harry explained, "Is in two parts: first, I want you to observe the proceedings and spy on any meetings held between the committee and the staff of the schools: should you discover anything about the Tournament that will come in handy for my tasks, then report it back to me."

"Yes Master," Ferrox saluted, Harry then turning as Sicarius cleared her throat.

"If I may ask my Lord," Sicarius spoke up, "Why would you need to be informed of the plans for the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Because," Harry answered, keeping his emotions in check as he was starting to hate it when people questioned his work and his actions. "If my theory is correct, my Father seeks to find a way to enter _me_ into the Tournament so that we can have our meeting on June 24th without any real suspicion as people will consider my absence to be a misdirection within the Tournament. However, on top of that theory, I have a feeling that, if I'm right, then the so-called Powers That Be of Hogwarts will wait until the _very_ last minute to inform me of any assistance for the Tournament, believing that I'll get by on pure luck and…" he scoffed to himself as he actually had an image of him saving someone's life in the upcoming Tournament, the three schools applauding him for the reason he was about to give, "…moral fibre! So," he added, looking back to Ferrox, "I want you, Ferrox, to inform me of any and all plans for the Tournament and find a way for me to do what any Dark Lord in Training would do: win by any means necessary."

"Yes Master," Ferrox replied, Harry noticing Kilthane watching the younger Mandalorian carefully; if he could see beneath the helmet, Harry was sure he'd see a look of curiosity and wonder on the face of the elder Mandalorian.

"The second part of your mission," Harry then explained, "Involves something that I want you to arrange either for Halloween night or, failing that, the Christmas Holidays."

"But my Lord," Kilthane spoke up, "Surely a time closer to your Father's resurrection would be easier for the both of you, especially since it will be Halloween night that the proceedings for the Tournament begin."

"Kilthane," Harry snarled, rounding on the elder, red lightning flowing freely from his right hand, his other hand curled into the grasping gesture for his Force Choke ability, Kilthane both gasping for air and screaming in pain as the two powers met him at the same time. "I thought I told you to _never_ question me, given that is one of those things that I do not want you to do."

Releasing the elite from his power, Harry's voice grew purely evil as he hissed, "Have you any brains in your head at all Kilthane? I wish Ferrox to have this task done by Halloween or Christmas _at the latest_: it does not mean I actually wish to perform this task that night: think next time and I may let you live."

"Yes…my Lord," Kilthane gasped, Harry turning back to Ferrox as he continued.

"Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to tell you of your second trial: my Father may be planning his return, but I want you to perform a little reconnaissance work on the current accommodation of my Mother, Bellatrix Lestrange: Azkaban Prison. Once you have the recon reports, I would like you to find any weakness within the prison, including anything I can use against the Dementors, and bring everything to the Complex. Once that is done, I want you to report to me with your findings and, _closer to June_," he looked to Kilthane as he said the last words, "I want the three of you to join me on a raid on Azkaban to release my Mother and to take care of those who will no doubt dare to question my power: is _that_ satisfactory for you Kilthane?"

"Yes my Lord," Kilthane gasped, feeling a sense of shame well up inside him as to the fact he had blatantly disrespected his superior; if he were on the Mandalorian encampment homeworld of Dxun, he would be executed for his crimes; heck, in times gone by, Revan himself would have put the betrayers through physical, mental and Force-induced tortures that no-one could survive before stripping the condemned of their lives.

"Yes Master," Ferrox remarked, Harry looking to the Mandalorian youth with an expression that he was thankful for his helmet, because no-one else could see it.

Ferrox was starting to grow on Harry; his loyalty and determination as well as the constant use of the M word had Harry considering giving to Ferrox a more honourable post in his Sith Order;

Apprentice, or, failing that, honour guard and right-hand to the Sith Prince…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

After the Elites had been given their assignments, Harry excused himself and spent some more time running laps on the treadmills and other exercise equipment within the Complex, his training and exercise distracting him so much that, by the time Harry reached the end of the high-ropes course, the leap of faith into the pool being his last obstacle, a familiar voice rang through the room.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Looking down, Harry smiled as he saw Hermione waving up to him, a drop of nearly 30ft between them, giving her a two-fingered salute to show he had heard her, Harry stepped forwards and dived, head-first, into the pool of icy water, the Sith Prince emerging moments later and, drying himself off, walked over to his Princess, the two of them locking lips in a gesture of longing and eagerness.

"I missed you," she told him, "And to be honest, without you near me, my lessons don't seem that much fun."

"I'll be sure to change that soon," Harry told her, holding Hermione in his arms as he asked, "Any sign of Neville?"

"Not really," Hermione answered, "I assumed he'd still be in Divination, listening to that old fraud waffle on about the Inner Eye and seeing into things that have no meaning, but, on a brighter subject, how's my Dark Prince? I felt your rage spike several times during my lesson: thankfully I was looking into some practical assignments or it would have been a bit suspicious."

"I'm fine Princess," Harry replied, giving Hermione another passionate kiss as he led her out of the training room and down towards their chambers, his Sith Armour laid out on his bed, his Hogwarts attire abandoned completely as he explained, "I spent my time giving some assignments to the Legion and making a few decisions. Oh, and guess what?"

"What?" asked Hermione, taking Harry's hint as she sat down on their bed, her Prince taking his rightful place next to her, his arms finding her body as she lay her head upon his chest.

"We have some new allies," Harry explained, running a soft hand through Hermione's hair as the two of them sat there, just enjoying the moment for what it was: peace and quiet. "I didn't want to believe them, but thanks to my new powers, I have two noble allies on my side and the first of my Sith Order."

"Who are they?" asked Hermione, purring slightly as she felt Harry's soft touch making her feel a side to her that she had always wanted: a side of her that told Hermione that she would be the Omega to Harry's Alpha.

"Fred and George," Harry replied, looking to his Princess as he felt her stiffen in his embrace, "Don't worry Mione: they won't…no, strike that, they _can't_ betray us: I confronted them about the attempted manipulations this morning and they told me that they would sooner ally themselves with the Second Generation Marauder than stand in his way. So, being the sly, manipulative Heir of Slytherin that I have become, I twisted their deepest desires and offered them the chance to become our inventors, creating tools of war for the battles that are to come: then, using the full power of the Force, I manipulated their wills and bound their souls in service to us: they are now Knight Sion and Knight Vader, the first of our Dark Knights and the first of our Sith Order."

Hermione snuggled against Harry's side, her fingers trailing against the soft, damp material of his shirt as she gave her two cents on the matter, "I shouldn't be surprised at what you did: those two have potential and they don't need to waste it on manipulative old bastards like Dumbledore. But to bind their souls like you did takes real power…and that is why I love you so much, my Dark Prince Riddle: because you are the powerful young man that I envisioned standing beside: I guess you could also say that Bastila was right."

"About what?" asked Harry curiously, his muscle tensions being released by Hermione's magical touch.

"When she first came to me," Hermione explained, "She seemed to taunt me into the dark side of the Force, but, when she explained about how I felt for you, I saw the light, so to speak, and knew who you were meant to be."

"What did she say?" asked the Sith Prince.

"She said," Hermione recited, before she chuckled and added, "And I quote:

"The loss he has suffered will be the catalyst for his power and, as I once saw in Revan himself, there is the potential to do great things for both sides. However, like Revan, Harry has a darker nature that he has not yet explored and, only through using his emotional catalyst to further his own power can he free himself from the lies spun by those who walk in the Light."

"And you accepted that?" asked Harry, "You, Hermione Granger, who told me straight that being like Voldemort would make me someone I'm not?"

"I did fight it," Hermione informed him, "I asked her how you could become this emissary of evil and her answer was:

"He can because he will, Surely you, Hermione Granger, have seen and perhaps even tasted the taint that lies within him; his mind and heart are damaged by this loss, but his power, his strength of will, the essence of who and what he is; these things still remain and, with your help, he can be reborn as a new person, a being with far greater powers than any who stand in his way or came before him. The death of a loved one brings about the essence of fear; fear turns into anger, anger into hate and hate into suffering, but, if he learns to harness these emotions, Harry Potter will become the most powerful Sith Lord since Revan himself."

"And do you know what, my love? I now see that she was right about that: you have discovered a side to you that the Light would have seen you ignore, even fear, at least until the time is right. You also have the chance to rebuild your family and become something you've never even wanted to before now: you have the chance to become a _true_ name in this world, a name that, like…Voldemort will come to be feared in this world."

"And when I find that name," Harry laughed, "You, my dark angel, will be the first to know about it; yet you and Bastila are both correct, which I suppose means I should also start on the hunt for the other Holocrons huh?"

"One step at a time," Hermione replied, before she looked to him, a look of seduction in her eyes as she asked, "Surely you aren't going to pass up the opportunity that presents itself here in your bedroom?"

"I will if you will," Harry grinned, watching as Hermione seemed to flip herself over, her hands running up and down his body as her lips found his, the both of them welcoming the feelings of passion being felt by both of them as their privacy was assured.

As Harry felt Hermione's lips against his, a part of him was aware of the strength between them growing again, the power of the Force unifying their bond and their love for one another. Welcoming this new feeling of strength and power, Harry gasped as he felt Hermione's hand running under his shirt, her soft hands now massaging his lean frame as she peeled off his shirt, her lips moving to his neck and shoulders, before she ran her tongue against his cheek, nibbling lightly at his ear.

"Hermione," Harry gasped, "We…we don't want to…to take it too far…yet."

"I know," Hermione remarked, her voice sounding almost musical to Harry, like a maniacal woman driven to the edge, but being brought back by her dark lover, "But surely I can have some fun with my Champion until then…can't I?"

Harry, seeing her almost curled up in his lap, her own shirt and robe abandoned, exposing a pair of well-forming breasts under a white cloth bra, her perfect looks and bushy brown hair falling around her face, the tips tickling at the skin on Harry's belly. He couldn't help it: reaching down, Harry pulled Hermione into his arms, his own hands now exploring her skin as the two of them enjoyed their very passionate reunion, Hermione speaking the thoughts that both of them were thinking.

{I've missed you Harry Potter,} she whispered, {Don't leave me alone again.}

{I am yours Princess,} Harry replied, his own lips and teeth now marking Hermione's neck as she gasped with passionate wonders, both of them officially belonging to one another.

{And I am yours, my Dark Lord of the Sith,} Hermione gasped, before she mirrored Harry's actions, providing him with a very deep mark on his own neck, both of them finishing with a long kiss as they remained together throughout the remainder of the afternoon.

This time, there was no reason for Harry to leave the hallowed position he was in now;

The place he had dreamed and lightly graced the presence of for weeks;

The bed of Hermione Granger, the Sith Princess, _his_ Sith Princess, curled up in his arms like the cat she had once been changed into;

'Life is good,' thought Harry, his tensions and emotional rages from before now a ghost of the past thanks to her.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

After his official welcome-back celebratory session with Hermione, Harry began to feel a lot better with himself, his mind and magic feeling united by the presence of his dark princess, his plans for the Tournament going ahead, his dilemmas now no longer a concern…well, save for one thing that Harry had a chance to inspect on that Thursday.

The fourth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins had Defence together, Harry still dressed in his dark armour as he and Hermione took a seat near the front of the class, Neville sitting on one side of the Sith Royals, the other side, to Harry's surprise, being occupied by Daphne Greengrass. As they waited, Harry whispered his findings and mission details to the Mandalorian Commander, Neville listening eagerly as Harry explained his chosen warriors' duties and the mission that he had given to Ferrox.

As the door opened behind them, signalling the arrival of Professor Moody – or as Harry had figured out, Barty Crouch Jr – the Sith Prince whispered, "There's more I need to talk about, but for now, know that I am pleased with your progress."

"Thanks Harry," Neville grinned watching as Moody stood before the class, his eyes – both the real one and one that Harry had discovered to have magical properties – watching them as he began to speak.

"Alastor Moody; ex-Auror, Ministry Malcontent and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher: I am here because Dumbledore asked me to; end of story, goodbye, the end: any questions?"

Harry actually smiled under his helmet as he and _Moody _locked eyes, the magical eye unable to pierce his helmet; this was a man who knew what he was doing: that would be clear to the class, but to Harry, it was clear that his Father's wolf among the sheep was doing his job well. Even if anything went astray with the time until the resurrection, Harry had a feeling that he would be rewarding Mr Crouch when all was said and done.

Moody was speaking again, "When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach; so, first question: who can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

"Three sir," Harry replied quickly, his eyes on full Sith colouring as to the thought of what they were discovering with only the first lesson.

"And they are so named…Miss Granger?"

"Because they are Unforgivable," Hermione answered, her fears about learning these curses in a class being washed away by Harry's soothing presence, the mental link between them providing Hermione with a sensual reminder of that loving afternoon in the Complex. "The use of any one of them would…"

"Would earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct: now the Ministry says you're too young to learn about these curses: I say different! You need to know _what_ you're up against; you need to be prepared: you need to find another place to stick your chewing gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr Finnegan!"

Harry actually scoffed to himself, a note of amusement in the gesture as he heard Seamus whispering, "No way: the old codger can see out of the back of his head."

Everyone suddenly ducked as Moody rounded, his hand throwing the chalk he had been writing with as he snapped, "And hear across classrooms: now, who's going to be first to give us a curse?"

When no-one volunteered, Harry smiled to himself as he saw Moody approach Ron, "Weasley: stand: give us a curse."

"M-my Dad told me about one once," Ron stammered, Harry smiling coldly as he felt Hermione's pleasure stretch across their link; both of them enjoying the sight of their newest, though least threatening enemy being put on the spot. "The Imperious Curse?"

"Ah yes," Moody whispered, "Your Father would know all about that one: gave the Ministry an awful lot of trouble a while back: perhaps this will show you why."

As everyone watched, Moody walked across the room towards a collection of jars where, as he opened the lid, a sudden wave of fear filled the room, Harry noticing Ron Weasley suddenly going _very _pale as Moody pulled a spider from within the jars, enlarging it with a flick of his wand, before he commanded, "_Imperio!_"

Chaos erupted in the room: Moody seemingly _forced_ the spider to do all kinds of tricks, including dangling over the heads and faces of several unfortunate Gryffindors and Slytherins, a loud thud afterwards telling Harry that Weasley had fainted in shock, Moody returning the spider to his hand as he faced the class again.

"Scores of witches and wizards," he explained, the class trying to recover from the chaos, "Claim that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperious Curse, but here's the real challenge: how do we sort out _the liars?_"

He looked in the direction of Harry's masked face as he said the last words, the Sith Prince smiling to himself as he considered answering that question when he paid Azkaban Island a little visit next year. Needless to say that a certain blonde-haired Uncle of his had certainly paid his dues and would again when, as Narcissa had said, Bellatrix learned of the mental torment of Lucius Malfoy towards her little snake.

"Another?" asked Moody, Harry noticing a strange, almost fearful look in the eyes of the Mandalorian commander to his right as Neville raised his hand, his promise to leave the Squib-wannabe behind being tested with just one lesson. "Longbottom is it? Professor Sprout tells me that you have a knack for Herbology: another curse?"

"There's the Cruciatus Curse," Neville answered, Harry suddenly clicking as to what was going to happen and why his allegiance and word were being tested.

"Correct," Moody insisted, "Come here."

"No," Harry snarled, standing tall and moving to the Professor, the Sith Prince noticing his so-called teacher's lips twitching, his tongue flicking out like a snake as Harry added, "Professor, do what you must for the sake of examples, but no teenager who has experienced pain through these curses should experience them so close."

"How right you are Potter," Moody growled, looking to Neville as he inclined his head, "That was thoughtless; back to your seat Mr Longbottom; Potter, take 5 points to Gryffindor for standing up for your fellow Housemates."

As Neville sat back down, Harry leaned in close and whispered, "Talk later."

Moody, meanwhile, pointed his wand at the same spider from before and commanded, "_Crucio!_"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently –

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly.

Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white and his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"_Reducio,_" Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular once too: right...anyone know any others?"

"Yes," Harry answered firmly, his eyes watching Moody for any sign of deception as he answered, "The Avada Kedavra Curse: the Killing Curse!"

"Yes," Moody hissed, his voice sounding like his jaws were clamped shut as he added, "You would do well to know that one Potter: it is the most Unforgivable and the one that could mean either the Dementor's Kiss or being tossed through the Veil of Death."

Before anyone could ask a question as to the purpose of this talk, Moody whirled around and pointed to the spider, his words as sharp and dominant as his explanations as he commanded, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Now it was Harry's turn to feel the strain of clenching his knuckles, the torches in the Defence classroom flickering dangerously, the atmosphere dropping to icy temperatures as he stared at what Moody had just done – reminded Harry why he had chosen to make the decision of family vs. freedom – before the Defence Professor continued, "The Killing Curse: only one person has ever survived it…and he's sitting in this room."

"Though no-one knows how," Harry spoke up, his dark persona rising as he faced Moody, "Some say that it was love and a sacrifice that did it; others say that it was a fluke; I say…I don't know how I did it and I don't want to know."

"Yes Potter," Moody agreed, "No-one does know how you survived the most fatal of the three curses, but suspicions and theories have been going for as long as you have been alive: there is _no_ counter curse to the Avada Kedavra and there _has never_ been a survivor…until now."

The two, though no-one could see it through Harry's mask, locked eyes until Moody straightened up and set the class to work, Harry's mind filling with the image he had seen in the presence of his Father.

'Force Redirection,' he thought to himself, 'The power of my ancestor saved me, but _nothing_ will save Dumbledore when the time comes to give him his Final Judgment…ooh,' a cold smile touched Harry's lips, a part of him aware of Hermione's hands against his own as if to calm him down.

'That gives me an idea…'

**Episode 11 and Harry seems to have been hit by a wave of darkness that seems to drive him towards his destiny, but what is this idea and will it work?**

**Also, what will Harry's reaction be when he meets the other schools and becomes the Fourth Champion?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Goblet of Fire is revealed and the other schools arrive, but there's something about Durmstrang that Harry doesn't like; also, the Champions are chosen, Harry learns of the First Task and decides its time he and Hermione enjoy some time to themselves; plus, Harry reveals his idea to Hermione and has a gift for her…**

**Please Read and Review…**


	12. Episode 12

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 11:**

**Zamia: Exerting his power and now he'll start to demonstrate it;**

**LovinLife710: I plan on some time with all our couples very soon and you'll also see why I've paired Draco with Ginny;**

**YugiohFreak54: That's right about what Harry would have done, hence the events of this chapter;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_'Force Redirection,' he thought to himself, 'The power of my ancestor saved me, but nothing will save Dumbledore when the time comes to give him his Final Judgment…ooh,' a cold smile touched Harry's lips, a part of him aware of Hermione's hands against his own as if to calm him down._

_'That gives me an idea…'_

Episode 12: Judgment Day

Following their first lesson with Professor Moody, Harry, Hermione and Neville made for the Chamber of Secrets, the Mandalorian Commander looking both worried and still slightly scared as Harry opened the entrance, the Sith Prince allowing his full dark demeanour to rear its head as he rounded on Neville and commanded, "Explain!"

"I'm sorry my Lord," Neville replied, his own demeanour now shifting into that of Mandalore as he spoke, "That…that curse brings back too many painful memories for me: I understand that you wished me to be the strong and willing Lord that I am, but seeing that curse…ugh," he shuddered with distaste as he asked, "Do I…do I _have_ to tell you?"

Harry was about to answer, as well as deal out some Force-based punishment for Neville's daring motion to question his actions, before he sighed and shook his head, removing his helmet as he spoke, "No Neville; more than anything, I do understand what it means to face something that you fear. I mean, seeing the AK so close and knowing that my own survival was through a form of magic that shouldn't exist makes me feel weaker than I like. You don't have to tell me, but I want you to promise me that you'll never allow yourself to show weakness like that again."

"On my honour," Neville explained, "And the blood of the Mandalorians, I swear it: I am sorry my Lord, I vow to all those who came before me that I shall never happen again."

"Thank you my friend," Harry nodded, moving to the Complex as he added, "Besides, when you serve my Order through my Father's forces, you'll be seeing plenty of that curse and, if you ever do wish to talk about it, I want you to know I'll listen."

"Of course," Neville remarked, "Thank you Harry."

"Anytime pal," Harry smirked, his robes seemingly billowing around him as he made for his chambers, "Anytime."

However, while Neville went to the training/exercise room and Hermione decided to take a trip into the Complex Library, Harry had barely closed the door to his room, before he gave a roar and pushed out all of his rage, red lightning dancing all around him as the Force came alive with his rage.

"Bartemius!" he snarled, grateful for his privacy charms that he had put in place on their first night, "How _dare_ you show me that curse so damned close to the time that I dread each and every year! Surely he knew that seeing that curse would force me to reconsider my own decision for joining my Father's forces and taking my rightful place as the Prince of Darkness and future Lord of the Sith Empire?" With another snarl, Harry looked to a familiar part of his chamber before he commanded, "HK!"

With a whirr of his mechanics and a de-activating shimmer from around his stealth field, the loyal assassin droid appeared, standing ready for action as he spoke. "_Exclamation: Master, I sense such pain and fear within you: is there someone you wish me to kill?_"

"Maybe later," Harry explained, his eyes dark as he looked to his assassin droid, "For now, I am going to need some help in covering up a little trip that I need to take."

"_Recitation: As you command it Master, so shall I obey: activating proto-holographic receptors._"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Getting away from Hogwarts had been fairly easy: with HK using his little disguising trick to act as the real Harry, the Sith Prince had found the passage out to Hogsmeade and, once there, Veiled away from Hogsmeade, focusing his mind on the one place that, while he had hoped he would never return, he knew he needed to go.

The familiar emerald and black surroundings met him as Harry emerged from the shadows, his dark form radiating its emotional war all throughout the room as he walked forwards, approaching the familiar room he had accessed once before.

This time, Harry didn't hesitate: he walked right in and kneeled swiftly, his head lowered as he waited for the recognition that would come from the being within the room.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before a voice spoke from before him, "Harry, my son: why have you returned?"

"I'm sorry Father," Harry replied, keeping his head low as he asked, "I needed some way to release a heavy stream of anger I'm feeling and was wondering if you happened to have any prisoners I could torture?"

"I have the next best thing," Tom Riddle answered, his child-like shell turned away from Harry as he added, "You can have Wormtail: now that I have your assurance as to your co-operation, his usefulness has come to an end."

"He'll do perfectly," Harry grinned, the darkness in him coming alive like a sudden forest fire as he asked, "Where will I find him Father?"

"Down in the dungeons," answered Voldemort, "Kill him if you must, but make sure that you leave enough for the Ministry to know of their mistake."

"As you wish," Harry replied, rising from his kneeled position and moving to the door.

"Harry?" asked Tom, forcing the Sith Prince to stop in his tracks as the man continued, "While I do not wish to antagonise you with continuous questioning, I must know: is your willingness to return here a sign that you are slowly considering coming back to me?"

"One step at a time Father," Harry answered coldly, "You _are_ my Father and nothing on this earth will change that, no matter how much I may want it to, but as for entrusting the power that I have come into to you and the Death Eaters? No, I have not yet made my final decision, but you, Father, you and your revelation have proven that you will always be someone I trust."

"I thank you for that little snake," Voldemort replied, his voice straining with weakness as he explained, "And for that, I want you to have this house for whatever you desire: your skill, which I may say is quite handy for silent attacks, will be a way for you to come and go as you please and, even though I have not returned to their world, I know you will see to it that the dark rides again."

"Thank you Father," Harry replied, before he turned and asked, "Out of curiosity, what would happen if you came back before next June?"

"If you mean as a resurrection, then nothing," Tom answered, "But if you mean that the Wizarding World were to learn of my return and Dumbledore would begin to challenge me, then my answer is this: your life would be in even greater danger than it already is. No Harry: June 24th is Judgment Day and it will be the day that my power comes back to me and I come back to you; now, speaking of family, have you made any plans regarding Azkaban?"

"Oh yes," Harry replied, leaving the room as he explained, "The wheels of fate are already being set in motion as we speak."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

13 Years, 9 Months, 6 Days, 12 Hours and 31 Minutes;

That was how long Bellatrix Riddle nee Lestrange had been an occupant of Azkaban Island, her mind being driven to the edge of sanity and back again by those accursed Dementors, her soul and body being kept alive and within her own consciousness by one constant image: the thought of her, the Dark Lady, the wife of the Dark Lord, the Mother of the Dark Prince, being reunited with her Big Bad King Cobra of a Dark Lord and her little Basilisk of a Dark Prince.

Even when she had been captured – though she considered it an act of _betrayal_ – Bellatrix had only been thinking of her little one, her Harry being safe and strong, but then she had learned it: she had learned that Dumbledore had managed to get his hands on Harry and that had driven her to the edge once again.

What made it worse was the fact that she had been the one to approach the protectors of her son's destiny: the Mandalorian Clan Longbottom, and ask them to find a way to gain custody of her little snake, but then the second act of betrayal had come around and her now ex-husband Rodolphus had turned up and driven the elder Longbottoms into a coma by means of the Cruciatus, the younger being saved by the Elites and taken away. In a fit of desperation, Bellatrix had rounded on her ex and told him straight, "It's over Roddy: _Avada Kedavra!_"

That was why she was in Azkaban; well…that and the supposed attempted murder of a noble family: but Bellatrix had felt it not too long ago; she had felt the stirrings of power and presence that only a mother could know.

Her little one was back;

Her Harry had discovered his legacy;

He would come for her and, if not him, then Tom;

This was why she was counting the times, so that she could ensure pain and destruction on those who saw fit to see her incarcerated;

If only she hadn't been so focused on the time – 13 Years, 9 Months, 6 Days, 12 Hours and 35 Minutes – Bellatrix would have seen the shimmer of a Mandalorian Stealth Unit nearby, the youngest Elite, Ferrox, making a mental note of his observations for his Lord.

Harry would be proud to hear that, at the very least, his Mother's thoughts were still on him, even _if_ the Sith Prince hadn't specifically asked Ferrox in the presence of Kilthane and Sicarius to check on her, the young Mandalorian knew his Master's wishes.

Every little boy, no matter how dark they made themselves out to be, needed the warmth and comforts of home that only a mother could provide;

'Don't worry my Lord,' Ferrox thought, leaving the cell when the guards came with one of their Dementors, 'Soon, you will see her again and then I will see you smile: the time is coming.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

_Warning: Graphic Images Ahead_

The dungeons of Riddle Manor were only accessible by one of two means: firstly, through use of the unique language that only Harry and his Father could speak – though now Harry added Ferrox to that list, a part of him wondering how the young Mandalorian was faring – while the other was through the magic of Riddle Manor's Lord giving you permission to be down there.

This was why Harry found the snivelling, cowering traitor eagerly preparing several chains and ensuring that the cells were fit for the soon-to-be coming prisoners of the Dark Lord. Entering through the only door to the cells, Harry noticed straight away just how the Dark Lord had become such a feared person within the Wizarding World, his eyes noting every inch of the dungeons as he stared at them. Not only were there bleak, almost icy conditions that made you think you were living in your worst nightmare, but all the while, you lived and breathed the air of the dead, damned and the desperate.

The air, on the other hand, seemed at least ten times worse to breathe than it was to see: it was almost like the air had been mixed with a thousand bad smells and then run through an inferno, its contents then added to the mix of human decay, faecal waste and vomit that no doubt ran rabid through the dungeons.

Finally, there were the sounds of scurrying and light dripping that told Harry two things: one, this place had rats and he didn't just mean Wormtail and two, the chances of surviving here and being sane at the end of it were about as high as the chance that Harry had considered turning his back on his dark destiny:

Zero!

Approaching the end cell, Harry stopped outside the door, his eyes on the cowering figure in front of him, before the Dark Prince took a breath and whispered, "Hello…Wormtail!"

The rat-faced coward froze in his place, his hands trembling as Harry's hand flexed, red lightning dancing over his fingers as he whispered, "Oh please do _try_ to run away: I prefer fresh blood and the fear to the easy way out anyway."

"H-H-H-Harry," stammered the rat, "Sh-shouldn't you be at s-s-s-school?"

"Shouldn't you be in Azkaban?" countered Harry, suddenly lifting his left hand, summoning the apparent wand that Wormtail had prepared to use against him: clearly, the coward actually believed he stood a chance against the Judgment that had come down upon him.

"I-I-I'm sorry for w-w-w-w-w-w-what happened to S-S-S-S-Sirius," Wormtail squeaked, "I-I-I-I had no choice: the Dark Lord…"

"My Father?" asked Harry, Wormtail crying out in true fear as the Sith Prince smiled coldly, "What about him? Oh," he lifted an armoured finger and seemed to mock the creature before him as he added, "Let me guess."

He put on a high-pitched voice, his words digging in as he spoke, "You have no idea of the power he possesses; I thought of Sirius; what would you have done? What would you have done? _HE WOULD HAVE DIED!_"

Before Wormtail could move another inch, Harry pushed out with his free hand, red lightning now dancing along the flesh of the coward, his skin becoming charred black, his finger-less hand seemingly swelling up as Harry's rage intensified, "You knew he would have died: _you_ betrayed him, Lily, James, Remus; all of them and for what? To save your own scrawny neck?"

"I didn't mean to!" squealed the rat, Harry's head shaking slowly as he seemed to become a beast possessed.

"No Peter," he hissed, lowering his hand, stray sparks of red lightning causing the rat to flinch like he was suffering an epileptic fit, "You knew the whole time what you were doing; you _knew_ Sirius wouldn't betray them, wouldn't betray me, wouldn't betray Father, so what did you do? You switched sides and made yourself believe you were doing this for the Greater Good: well, I am sorry."

Lifting the hand that held Pettigrew's wand, or rather the wand that belonged to the Dark Lord, Harry shook his head again as he whispered, "Because you only ended up delaying the inevitable: such a shame I just learned this curse, but here goes: _Crucio!_"

The shrieks that rang through the dungeons made Harry's blood rush with an excitement that not even the most extreme of sports could match, his emerald eyes now on full golden as he poured all of his rage into the curse, Wormtail's body not twitching and jerking like the spider, but twisting itself seven ways from Sunday and seemingly becoming so distorted that it would make Quasimodo look human.

"Say you're sorry now!" snarled Harry, pushing his left hand out once more, red lightning forcing the slowly distorting creature to shoot into the air, his back cracking as he collided with the wall, "Call out to them now Peter: beg them for forgiveness because I won't give you any!"

"Please!" shrieked Pettigrew, "Make him stop: someone: anyone: please, Lily, James: forgive me!"

"**NO!**" Harry snarled, his voice suddenly growing distorted and pure evil, almost as if the human within him had vanished, replaced by this blood-thirsty monster, "**I SAID BEG!**"

"Please!" shrieked Pettigrew, "I beg you: please stop!"

"_Serpensortia, Scorpisortia!_"

As Harry commanded the two spells, he watched with dark satisfaction as a large King Cobra, hood flaring and fangs glistening with blood-thirsty, life devouring venom slithered from the end of his custom wand, its eyes fixed on the prey that was being restrained by Harry's magic. Alongside it, Harry watched with a satisfied sneer to his face, his golden-coloured eyes glowing madly with power as a large black scorpion emerged from the end of his wand, its stinger as large as Harry's fist, the Sith Prince releasing his red lightning assault on Wormtail, the distorted figure now looking like some gargoyle designer's earlier attempts as Harry commanded, /Strike him!/

The Cobra lunged, but not before Harry pushed his will into the giant scorpion, his voice as cold as ever as he commanded, "**Strike him!**"

Fangs and stingers lashed out with lightning-quick reflexes, Harry banishing the creatures back to the void from where they'd come as he walked into the cell, Wormtail's body now being covered by pale, pasty skin and bulbous veins that threatened to burst, releasing a torrent of blood onto the floor; that was something that Harry couldn't have.

Placing his hand on the venom-poisoned skin, he pushed his Force Power into the body of his parents' betrayer, stopping the poison from taking any further effect until Pettigrew was sent to Azkaban, though Harry did make sure that the filthy coward wouldn't be able to change into his rat form either: this time, there would be no escape.

Stepping back, Harry shook his head, his hand now pulling out the Blood Blade that he had used against the Dursleys before he approached Wormtail's five-fingered hand, his eyes glowing madly as he whispered, "I promise this will only hurt a little Peter; what comes next…more so!"

With a slash, his golden-coloured eyes almost blacking out completely as the beast within him revelled at the sight of blood and wounds, Harry kept hold of the now severed hand, before he whispered, "I can only pray that you survive long enough to meet with my Mother; because if you think I made you scream, then she'll make you die: goodbye Peter."

With that, Harry stepped back, performing several powerful wandless cleaning spells on both him and the cells as he left the dungeons, his last spell taking effect seconds later as Pettigrew vanished from the Riddle Manor, his mind and body savaged so badly that the only way someone could recognise him was by his constant babbling:

"L…Lily; J…James; S…Sirius; s…s…sorry!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Back at the Manor, Harry deposited the severed hand next to the chair where the Dark Lord sat, his eyes showing the rushes of adrenaline that coursed through his veins as his eyelids twitched feverishly, his teen body finding it hard to relax as he remained there.

"Well done Harry," Tom whispered, "And I see you brought back a souvenir!"

"Stop playing games Father," Harry growled, "I know that Crouch is Moody; I know you plan to use the Tournament to encourage our meeting and I know that you want me to enter. As promised, I will not stop your plans, but I also figured that there was a reason you kept the snivelling coward; well, here he is…giving you a hand with the resurrection."

Tom actually sniggered at the pun made by his son and heir, before he felt the coldness wrap around the room, a part of him just knowing that Harry was gone.

'Until next time,' Tom thought, turning back to the fireplace, 'My son.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

It took Harry two days to fully recover from the adrenaline surges that threatened to overpower his body, but, by the time he was himself again, the Sith Prince found that HK had served him well, using skill and guile to continue his educational needs, though Harry couldn't figure out how the assassin droid managed to recreate the effects of magic.

The time was drawing nearer; the Triwizard Tournament was approaching and, as Harry curled up in the Chamber with Hermione, his Sith Princess using her magical touch to calm the last of the frayed nerves within her Prince, Harry knew that the time was coming when he wouldn't have to hide.

Judgment Day was on its way…and speaking of that.

"Hermione?"

Looking down to her boyfriend, Hermione smiled as she asked, "Yes Harry?"

"I think I may have found a name for myself as the Sith Lord," Harry answered her, looking into her eyes as he explained his reason. "Everything I've done with the Force is to bring them to justice; I have made myself Judge, Jury and Executioner in all of their eyes and soon, I will become more powerful than ever. So, for that reason, I have chosen a name that mirrors that judgment; heck, the name itself _means_ Judgment."

"And what is it?" asked Hermione.

"I am Harry Potter no longer," Harry explained, "I _am_ Harry Salazar Revan Riddle to my Father and the forces of the night, but my enemies will know me by another name."

"Yes?"

Looking into her eyes, Harry pushed his will into the words, his eyes flashing the same demon-possessed golden colour that they had in the dungeons as he answered;

"**I am Darth Giudizio: the Lord of Judgment!**"

"I think…it's perfect," Hermione whispered, giving her boyfriend a soft kiss on the forehead as she tried the name for herself, "Giudizio; Judgment: a perfect name for the new Prince of Darkness, but to me, you'll always be my Harry."

"Always love," Harry replied, his voice, eyes and mannerisms now back to normal as he told her, "Always."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Dressed in his armour, Harry began counting down the times until the arrival of the students came to pass, his mind recalling everything that had happened over the past month: without Quidditch to distract him, the Sith Prince had been able to increase his trainings and he had even been able to manage to bear Moody's classes, knowing that the time was coming when it wouldn't matter anymore, the day when Darth Giudizio could rise and take his place; whether that was at the side of his family or standing alone with his Hermione, Harry was yet to decide.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait; McGonagall only had to stare at Harry and she instantly moved onto the next student: all of the staff had tried and failed to have Harry remove his armour, even the sharp-eyed Snape was helpless, though it did help that Harry knew Severus' secrets and his allegiances.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front...no pushing..."

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry, standing with Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry cocked an eyebrow at the question, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so...not from that far away..."

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently, earning a smile from Harry as he only then realised that this was the first time in a long while that the human waste disposal had been so formal.

Something was up here and Harry was determined to find out what that was;

Then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

Dennis' guess was closer...As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid - this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Harry could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong..."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnegan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds..."

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then –

"Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly.

Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks -and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool…and then Harry saw the rigging;

"It's a mast!" he said to Ron and Hermione, though more to Hermione as they watched, Harry still curious as to Weasley's sudden interest in being their friend again.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle...but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognize that profile.

"Harry - it's Krum!"

Harry wasn't listening: he had suddenly gone very rigid, his eyes narrowed, the demon within him surfacing again as he stared at Karkaroff and with good reason.

One night in September, Harry had gone back to the Manor to talk about who he could and couldn't trust and one name and command from Voldemort had come back to Hogwarts with him:

"If you see a man named Igor Karkaroff: _kill him!_ He's one of the ones who testified against your Mother, sending her to Azkaban!"

Unseen by everyone due to the so-called star from Durmstrang, Harry's hands suddenly became shrouded in dark fire, his darker side rearing its head as he growled under his breath, the area around him suddenly filling with a violent wind.

"**Karkaroff: your life is mine!**"

**Episode 12 and Harry's becoming one scary son-of-a-bitch lately, wouldn't you agree? Now that the wolf sees the rabbit, will Harry/Darth Giudizio get revenge for his Mother or will it be a more personal matter?**

**Also, what is the cause of this so-called Demon Mode that Harry has tapped into and can it be controlled?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Goblet of Fire is revealed and the Champions are chosen; Harry learns of the First Task and decides its time he and Hermione enjoy some time to themselves; plus, Harry has a gift for her and decides to show the three schools what their fictitious fourth champion can _really_ do!**

**Please Read and Review…**

**OC SPELLS:**

**_Scorpisortia: _****The Serket Summoning Charm: Summons a Serket – giant scorpion – from the end of the wand that will only obey the commands of the caster;**


	13. Episode 13

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 12:**

**Zamia: You'd be right about Tom and Ron won't get the chance to act so chummy with the Dark Champion;**

**Light Lord Cybergate: Neville is still getting used to Harry's orders; remember that he also only just recently witnessed the curse that made him lose his parents; also, as the story progresses, he will become more hardcore and more Mandalorian in attitude;**

**YugiohFreak54: You know something YF; you just gave me a brilliant idea to ensure that Harry has a main weapon against the garbage disposal;**

**Ninja bat master: This story is a Harry/Hermione so Fleur will not be part of the pairing, but she may be an eventual part of the Sith Order;**

**King1367: Then, in the case of the reaction, you'll love the next chapter, but you'll have to wait a while, before Bella makes her big return;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_Harry wasn't listening: he had suddenly gone very rigid, his eyes narrowed, the demon within him surfacing again as he stared at Karkaroff and with good reason._

_One night in September, Harry had gone back to the Manor to talk about who he could and couldn't trust and one name and command from Voldemort had come back to Hogwarts with him:_

_"If you see a man named Igor Karkaroff: kill him! He's one of the ones who testified against your Mother, sending her to Azkaban!"_

_Unseen by everyone due to the so-called star from Durmstrang, Harry's hands suddenly became shrouded in dark fire, his darker side rearing its head as he growled under his breath, the area around him suddenly filling with a violent wind._

"**Karkaroff: your life is mine!**"

Episode 13: I Am Number Four

Following Dumbledore and the soon-to-be deceased Karkaroff into the school with the rest of the students, Harry moved towards the back of the Great Hall, his eyes still on the treacherous coward that had _dared_ to send his Mother to Azkaban. Even if he hadn't done that, Harry had spent the time since seeing the man scanning his mind with his advanced powers and what he had seen had also been enough to show him that Judgment was inevitable for the coward.

Karkaroff had testified against several Death Eaters to save his own skin and, in the end, in the presence of the once head of the DMLE and Minister Barty Crouch Snr, he had named his own son, the man under the Moody mask, Barty Crouch Jnr, as a known Death Eater, claiming that he was responsible for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, a part of Harry knowing that this had to be the reason for Neville's discomfort.

'Oh yes,' chuckled Harry to himself, 'Judgment will come for that traitor…in time, but, for the sake of my Father's plans, I will bide my time, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun first.'

Harry's attention was returned to the Great Hall when he saw Albus Dumbledore taking the floor, his eyes on each of the students from each of the schools, his voice carrying throughout the school with ease as he declared, "Welcome to all of our honoured guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Wizarding Academy, and to you, Madame Maxime and High Master Karkaroff on the eve of this splendid occasion. Now, as my own students have already been informed, the Triwizard Tournament, which is the main reason for our gathering, consists of three dangerous tasks that will test a witch or wizard's mettle against the darkest of trials. In the past, there have been reports of deaths and serious magical draining injuries taking place in the path of this Tournament: it is for that reason that special rules have been put into effect. To explain those rules, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. Now, to explain the rules, may I pass the honour onto Mr Barty Crouch."

As Dumbledore stepped back, Harry thought he caught sight of Alastor Moody's hands tightening, a look of pure discomfort and tempted rage being released upon the room; sensing the man's intentions, Harry tapped into the Force, using the same mind-link ability that he had shared with Revan and Hermione to address the man.

{Crouch, you idiot: wait! Do not look at me and do not react to my voice, but know that my Father's plans are progressing nicely and, when the time is right, _then_ you may have your revenge on him; if you understand, clear your throat.}

_Moody_ obliged, earning a few curious looks, the Defence Teacher smiling weakly as he said, "Sorry; something went down the wrong way."

Returning his attention to the senior Crouch, Harry watched as the man seemed to tremble before he spoke, "After due consideration, both the Ministry and the Department have agreed that no student under the age of seventeen may compete: this decision _is final!_" he added in a roar as murmurs and jeers of disagreement rose up from all around the hall as Dumbledore stepped forwards once more.

"Silence!" he roared, the hall obliging him as Harry stared at the two men, his armoured hands linked together in what would be described as a look of thought and planning, were it not for the mask he wore.

Dumbledore continued, "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"Don't even think about it Vader," Harry whispered to the Dark Knight, Fred stopping dead at the sound of his new Master's voice; looking to both of the twins, Harry added, "Chamber: now!"

With a nod of their heads, the two Weasleys followed Harry down into the Chamber of Secrets, their company joined by Hermione and, though Harry knew the others couldn't see him, HK, who made for the Complex as Harry turned to the Dark Knights.

"I don't want either of you to even attempt to enter this Tournament," he explained to them, his eyes showing a sense of rage and purpose as he removed his helmet, the twins both averting their gazes as they fell back into their dark allies personas, "I have plans that need to be seen to the end and your interference will only seek to drive the anchors of suspicion towards me and the plans I have to make."

"We meant no disrespect my Lord," Fred bowed, his head lowered before Harry as he spoke, "We only sought to continue our seemingly normal personas around those who are unworthy to even be in the same room as you."

"I understand that Vader," Harry nodded, his voice growing cold as he added, "But I do not want you two to go over the edge with your disguises: if you seek to become involved in this Tournament, then on your own heads be it."

"Why is that Master?" asked George, Harry's blood rushing with energy as it always did whenever he heard someone call him the M-word.

"Because Sion," Harry announced, "You are standing in the presence of whom is soon to be the Fourth Triwizard Champion!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Harry's prediction was right on the money as, twenty-four hours later, the whole school was stunned as the champions were revealed: Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory…and Harry Potter.

Seemingly stunned himself by this revelation, Harry stumbled towards the front of the hall, amidst jeers and looks of evil from all of those who'd had their own hearts and minds set on becoming champion, though Harry suspected that the eternal glory and the one thousand Galleon prize money had something to do with it.

Moving towards the back end of the Great Hall, Harry watched as he was guided into a private chamber, Krum, Delacour and Diggory all looking at him in shock, before Harry shrugged and sighed with feigned bewilderment as he told them, "You'll never believe what just happened out there."

There was a moment's silence before Diggory, who had faced Harry in magical combat before, laughed and shook his head, a look of pure wonder on his face as he whispered, "Only you Potter."

"So it would seem," Harry replied, "I sometimes wonder if my life is-"

"Harry!"

Rounding on the spot, Harry found all three Headmasters of the schools entering the room, accompanied – to his surprise – by Alastor Moody and Severus Snape, Barty Crouch Senior looking to Harry with a sense of disbelief as Dumbledore continued from calling out his name, "Harry, did you find some way to put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Did you ask the other students to do it for you?"

"What do you want to hear me say Headmaster?" asked Harry coolly, "That I didn't do it; that I didn't ask someone else; that I want to find someway out of this? Is that what you want me to say Albus Dumbledore? Well," he heaved a sigh and looked all around as he decided to really reveal his Slytherin side, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What do you mean?" asked Crouch, "It is a simple question boy: yes or no!"

There was a sudden gust of wind that blew through the room, Harry suddenly in Crouch's face, grateful for his helmet as it was hiding the look of murderous rage in his Sith eyes as he hissed, "Don't you _ever_ call me boy, Crouch: if it wasn't for scumbags and bastards like you, I would still have my family with me: now, I'm only going to say this once and, for your sake, I'll use _small words_!"

Stepping back, Harry felt his anger passing away, making it safe for him to remove his helmet as he stared at each of his teachers, before he looked to Albus Dumbledore and spoke again:

"Did I put my name in the Goblet of Fire Headmaster? Yes!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"That…was…_priceless!_"

Harry's laughter rang through the Chamber as he moved towards the entrance of the complex, his mannerism now on full display as he made his way into the interior of his private area, his armour now illuminated by the electrical energy and displays from the Ebon Hawk's main control room, Hermione following close behind as she looked to him.

"I can't believe you were able to fool them," she laughed, seeing Harry slowly strip out of his armour, his black robes and clothing revealed underneath it.

"The Force, my Hermione, can have an effect on the weak-minded," Harry told her, his eyes now on full Sith colouring as he hung his armour upon a mannequin, "But I needed to do that so that Dumbledore thinks me responsible for my own fate: now, he'll have someone watching over me and providing subtle hints about each of the tasks; if he's the irony-loving bastard that I know and loathe, he'll have Crouch watching me."

"Which is exactly what you want, right my love?" asked Hermione, snaking her arms around his waist as Harry faced the entrance to the Restoration Room, "You want Dumbledore afraid for you so that, when you face your Father on June 24th, you'll have a reason to show him that you're not the same person that you once were."

"That's right Princess," Harry replied, turning to her and placing a soft, but seemingly cold-skinned kiss on her lips, Hermione gasping as she suddenly felt the darkness in her boyfriend; in one night, it had become stronger than ever and, as Harry held onto her, he found his own emotions being sent through their bond to his beloved. "I want Dumbledore scared; I want him to suffer, knowing that the forces of darkness have finally pushed me to risk my own life: I want him to believe that he has me on thin ice, with but one mistake forcing me over the edge. I want him to wish he were dead when all is said and done…so that I can finally grant him his wish."

"And the Tournament?" asked Hermione, enjoying the affection and attention she was getting from her boyfriend.

"Nothing but a distraction," Harry explained, "Like I promised Father, I won't try and avoid this; I'll embrace each task and use it to my full advantage before I display my power to each of these people. They want a Champion, then that's what they'll get: they'll get the Master of Disaster and a real demon among their angels."

"What did you say to him anyway?" asked Hermione suddenly, watching as Harry moved over to a set of caches that he had discovered sealed within the walls of the control room, "I mean you weren't in there that long: what did you say to make him leave you alone?"

"Oh," Harry replied, "I told him that if he tried to convince me to find a safe way around this, I would leave Hogwarts and the wizarding world forever: even Albus Dumbledore has his weak spot and now, I, Darth Giudizio, will use that weakness to my advantage."

"So what are you doing down here?" asked Hermione, watching as Harry activated one of the caches.

"I have a gift for you," he replied, removing a large black box from within one of the caches, before he sealed it again and handed the box to Hermione, "Open it."

She did so, and her eyes filled with an expression of awe and wonder as she stared at the contents: inside was what appeared to be a folded suit that appeared to be made from moulded metal, but, when Hermione pulled the suit out of the box, she watched as it seemed to suddenly clasp onto her flesh, the suit slithering over her body and hardening around her skin, forming what could only be described as a suit of armour.

When the suit had completed its task, Hermione watched as Harry flicked his wrist, summoning a full length mirror for his lover, the Sith Princess gasping as she laid eyes on her reflection.

Her body was covered, head to foot, in a suit of black armour that appeared to not only mould perfectly to her skin and muscle tone, but provide a sense of intimidation; despite its symbiotic way of becoming her armour, Hermione noticed that it seemed to be made from a strong, yet seemingly light-weight material that broke the black colour with shades of gold and crimson that formed streaks and markings at her shoulders, over her breasts and down her legs, her gauntlets looked menacing with their claw-like fingers and, as Hermione looked, she then noticed that the red and gold armour was actually a brace that formed itself around her neck and shoulders, spikes protruding from the brace, a long midnight-blue cape billowing behind her. As Hermione admired her reflection, she watched as a helmet seemed to rise from the suit and close around her face, the helmet separating itself from her armour, allowing Hermione to remove it, the design of the helmet similar to the head of a wyvern, a second set of spikes showing themselves around her head like a crown.

When she removed the helmet, Hermione turned to her lover, before she asked, "How did you do this? I love it!"

"Ragnok helped me," Harry explained, "Unlike my personally-forged Mandalorian Armour, yours is made from the shed scales of the Krayt Dragon that guards my treasures and amplified by a few goblin and Sith-born magicks that allowed me to bond the armour to you; all it needed was a sample of your blood and, thanks to my more darker methods, I was able to acquire it."

"And the symbiotic bonding," Hermione pointed out, "How did you do that?"

"I just told you," Harry smiled, "I used your blood to bind it to your body: the armour itself would mould to however you wished it to look, hence the reason that the helmet sprang around your head at the end there: you _can_ remove it like I do mine, but other than that, it is all yours…as is that thing." He added, pointing back to the box; when Hermione looked into the box, she gasped again as she saw a strange black and gold cylinder that, to any normal witch or wizard, would appear strange, but to a Sith, it was normal.

"A lightsabre," Hermione gasped, pulling the cylinder from within the box, an almost crescent-shaped edge to the cylinder that would compensate for agility and motion with the sabre, "Where's…"

Her words were silenced when a strange hiss filled the room, a glare of blood-red light filling Hermione's vision; looking to Harry, she saw him to now be holding onto a sabre of his own, a thin, but deadly blade of red energy protruding from the black and silver-decorated hilt that was held within his grasp, the energy and static discharge from the blade making Hermione's hair stand on end.

Activating her own sabre, Hermione felt her blood rush with excitement as she saw a black, glowing blade of light extend from the cylinder, the energy glowing in the light of the Ebon Hawk control room, the Sith Princess looking to Harry as she asked, "Shouldn't this be your colour?"

"If you prefer it that way, my love," Harry answered, de-activating his own sabre, "Just say the word."

Following his example, Hermione moved towards him, before she reached up and took his lips against hers, her hands exploring every inch of his robed body while his embrace explored her now perfectly-formed armour, both of them gasping with longing as they wondered when the last time was that they had been able to feel the other's power like this. Holding Hermione in his arms, Harry allowed his thoughts to say what his mouth was currently too occupied to discuss, {You need not a name, my love; I gave you one when you chose to join me: Ventress; with this armour and your sabre, your powers are now officially yours…as is my heart.}

{Thank you, my Dark Lord of Judgment,} Hermione replied, tasting every inch of Harry's mouth with her tongue as she added, {Though you will have to change my blade: the more powerful, intimidating weapon is, by right, yours, my love.}

{If it will make you happy Princess,} Harry told her, {I will oblige your request.}

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Following the surprise declaration of four Triwizard Champions, the schools felt themselves divided by the choices they had to make on who to support: to Harry's surprise, his support came from not only the twins and Neville, but most of the Slytherins and, especially, Severus Snape, the Potions Master seemingly becoming lenient in his jibes towards the Sith Prince.

His biggest supporter, however, was Hermione and, as the date of the First Task – November 24th – came closer with each passing day, the young Sith found himself either training, researching or relaxing in the company of his Princess. It had been a strange month since the events of Halloween and, over time, Harry began to question whether or not he was lucky to have someone as loyal and – in his mind – beautiful as his Ventress at his side and in his bed. There wasn't a day that went by that Harry and Hermione didn't stay together; even on Hogsmeade Weekend, when Harry decided to explore for further clues to the Task and ways around it, the two spent their time together, though, as they returned to the town square after leaving the Three Broomsticks, Harry felt Hermione stop next to him.

Looking to her, the pair of them dressed in their armour, Harry asked, "What is it love?"

"I…don't know," Hermione replied, "I just…felt something; something wrong with this picture."

Looking around, Harry suddenly felt it too: a strange sense of being watched that, despite those who would follow their Prince and Princess into the abyss and back, didn't feel friendly. Keeping his hand in hers, Harry whispered, "Play along and follow me."

Moving away from the square, Harry began to speak, "Hermione, while we're here; there's something I need to do."

"If it means so much to you," Hermione replied, "Then tell me what it is and I'll do what I can to help."

"Okay," Harry smiled, "I need to go to the Shrieking Shack."

The sensation stopped…and so did Harry and Hermione, the Sith Prince now smiling with a cold intention that could have made the wintry Hogsmeade scene seem like summer in Ibiza right now. Continuing his little façade, Harry then explained, "I need…to say…goodbye."

"Okay," Hermione replied, squeezing Harry's hand as she led him up the familiar path towards the seemingly haunted building, the following sensation striking up again as the two reached the edge of the grounds, Harry looking around warily before Hermione whispered, "Clear."

Stopping at the gate of the Shack, Harry turned and held out his hand, a familiar veiled object flying towards him, before it became clasped in his embrace, the familiar face of Ginny Weasley shown beneath the cloak as Harry laid it aside, removing his helmet at the same time.

"Ginny?" asked Harry, "What are you doing following us? And what are you doing with my Dad's cloak?"

"I'm keeping an eye on you Harry," Ginny replied, her voice seemingly showing concern, but there was no fooling a Sith, "As our Champion, you need someone to watch your back."

"I have someone watching my back," Harry grinned, "And my front and all the rest of me," he then wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders, his eyes catching sight of Ginny growing tense, her smile seemingly forced as she looked to Harry and Hermione.

"Hermione can't be everywhere though, can she?" asked the young Weasley, "You need someone who'll protect you and be there to be with you."

"I need that like I need a hole in the head," Harry told her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion: why was Ginny suddenly acting like some kind of jealous fan-girl all of a sudden when, at the World Cup, Harry had sensed true intentions and a sense of loyalty?

{One name,} Hermione mentally commented, {Dumbledore: somehow, he must have manipulated her fears into thinking you were hers, just like how she saw you when she was younger.}

{Then this needs to be dealt with,} Harry told her, before he stepped forwards and asked, "Ginny, why do you think that Hermione's not here to be with me?"

"Because she's _her_," Ginny scowled, Harry smiling inside as he saw her more jealous self come out, "She's not worthy to have someone like you at her side Harry; she'd need someone who can be there because no-one else would."

"And…" Harry remarked, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck, "Can you name one such person?"

"Sure," Ginny replied, "Ron. Harry, you're the only one who needs some real woman, not someone you need to be a charity case towards: you need a real girlfriend, not practice."

"And with that," Harry sighed, "You just revealed yourself to me Ginny…or should I say…_RON!_"

Then, before Hermione could move, Harry had reached out and grabbed Ginny by the throat, his eyes glowing with the full fury of the Sith as he reached into her mind with the Force, pulling out the truth and, as he had suspected, cancelling the compulsions that had been placed upon her; when Ginny next looked, she gasped as she saw herself in Harry's grip.

"Harry?" she asked, "W…where am I?"

Releasing her, Harry kneeled down and looked into Ginny's eyes, his gaze softening as he spoke, "I'm sorry if I hurt you Ginny: you were under some kind of compulsion that tried to force Hermione and I apart: using my recently inherited gifts was my only option to free you. Now, tell me: what's the last thing that you remember?"

"I…I don't…" Ginny gasped, holding her head in pain as she looked to Harry, her voice growing stronger as she explained, "I remember Ron telling me that there was something you needed to know; then he purchased a Butterbeer for me in the Three Broomsticks and the next thing I know, I'm here and you're choking me."

"Ginny," Harry added, "What was it that I needed to know?"

"Something…" Ginny remarked, holding her head again, "About…the First Task."

Pouring all of his rage into the command, Harry gestured with his right hand, his voice showing both compassion and superiority as he commanded, "**_Remember!_**"

Ginny's eyes seemed to glaze over, before she spoke in a seemingly hypnotised voice, "The First Task is to do with dragons and I need to divide Harry and Hermione so that Ron can appear to feel guilty about turning his back on the Fourth Champion."

As Harry turned to Hermione, his lips forming the word _dragons_, a look of disbelief in his eyes, Ginny shook her head before she asked, "What?"

"Ginny," Harry told her, "You are a true friend to me and you will always be my ally: I am sorry that you got caught up in this game of cat and mouse between me and your asshole of a brother, but he won't get that chance again. Ginny, would you like to stay in the Chamber's new Complex with Hermione and I?"

"Yes Harry," Ginny nodded, "If I can have my own room."

"Of course you can," Harry told her, before he stood up and held out his hand to her, his voice filled with strength as he asked, "Friends?"

"Friends," Ginny smiled, taking Harry's hand and rising with his touch, Harry leading both Ginny and Hermione back to Hogsmeade as he knew what he had to do now:

Ron Weasley needed to learn his lesson…one way or another;

The First Task…dragons…it was time for some more in depth research;

It was time for Hogwarts to learn of the power of the Fourth Champion!

**Episode 13 and it seems that 13 really is unlucky: for anyone who, like the DMW, tries to get between the Sith Prince and Princess, but what awaits Hogwarts when the Sith Champion decides to let it all go?**

**Also, will Ron meet the same fate as Wormtail or will Harry be merciful? – What do you think? ;-)**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry decides to show the three schools what their fictitious fourth champion can _really_ do; plus, the Dark Champion meets with a certain tabloid reporter and decides to ensure that his reign as champion isn't put down by some tart; also, the Yule Ball is announced and Ginny is surprised as to who asks her;**

**Please Read and Review…**


	14. Episode 14

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 13:**

**Zamia: I have a sound plan for the Weasley that will involve the Second Task and Harry's true power; believe me, the games have only JUST begun;**

**King1367: As soon as I read your review, this chapter was in my head; hope you enjoy it and thanks for the idea;**

**Harryhermionealways: I have one of two times planned for Bella's return: one – after the Yule Ball or two – after the Second Task; either way, Harry will be the only one who knows she's back until the resurrection;**

**YugiohFreak54: Nah, that's too simple: come on YF, I think I've proven I'm too evil for something so simple ;-)**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_The First Task…dragons…it was time for some more in depth research;_

_It was time for Hogwarts to learn of the power of the Fourth Champion!_

Episode 14: The Force Unleashed

Following the rescue of Ginny, Harry returned his attention to the main task: his plans and preparations for facing his dragon on the 24th; now that he had his full understanding of the task, Harry knew he would need some serious firepower and, being the Prince of Darkness and Lord of the Sith, he _had_ that power at his command.

The night before the First Task, Hermione made her way down to the Chamber after their last lesson, her eyes filled with a sense of worry as she used her bond with Harry to open the Chamber's entrance. Passing into the Complex, the Sith Princess, now known to the Mandalorians and to the Dark Knights as Lady Ventress, made her way into the library, her eyes wide as to what she found.

The usually well-kept stacks and shelves were strewn all over the place, books and tomes that even Hogwarts would kill to possess were now held up in the air by some unusual scene of dark, accidental magic, their rarity preserved as if the wielder of this power had thought ahead and protected the room. Moving through the wreckage, Hermione gasped when she found her Harry, on his knees, in the midst of a circle that seemed to be carved from a mix of the burning energy within his now black lightsabre and his own blood.

"Harry?" she gasped, approaching the edge of the circle, her eyes on her beloved, "What…what have you done?"

"Preparing," answered the Sith Lord, his voice like ice from beneath his helmet, his power radiating through the room as he turned his head to her, "I'm not going in there tomorrow at only half-strength, so, I'm using this rite that Lord Revan taught me during the time of my awakening to release the full fury of the Force."

"Is it dangerous?" asked Hermione, slowly lowering herself to her knees as she watched her lover.

"Dangerous," Harry repeated, looking away as he considered the question, "Dangerous: could be, but I am not that little boy who fears the unknown any longer: rest assured, my love that I will do all in my power to overcome my trials tomorrow and come back to you."

"And what are your plans?" asked Hermione, watching as a strange set of red tendrils seemed to snake from the circle's design, their energy linking itself to Harry's armour as the Sith Lord seemed to take in a breath of ecstasy, like some kind of addict taking his next fix.

"My plans," he replied, the magic in the room spiking again, causing a powerful wind to blow all around them, his voice seemingly turning itself into the strange demon form that he had adopted over the months, "**Is to bring Hell itself to Hogwarts!**"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Nerves were on edge;

Fears were running wild;

Hopes and expectations were high;

Allegiances were being tested and, for the first time, the four Houses of Hogwarts seemed united by this common goal; the strange thing was that, with the exception of Neville, Ginny and the twins, all of Gryffindor had abandoned Harry and chose, along with the Hufflepuffs, to support Cedric Diggory, while the Ravens and the Slytherins all stood firmly behind what most of the Harry-Haters were now calling _The Dark Champion._

Due to this boycott, Harry had taken his small band of allies from the House of the Lions and spent every meal sitting with the snakes, either Malfoy – which surprised most of the Lions as they still believed the two to be bitter enemies – or Daphne sitting either side of the Gryffindors, the other Slytherins saying nothing.

When the time came for Harry to make his way down to the arena where he would face his dragon, he heaved a deep sigh and, activating his helmet, allowed Hermione a quick kiss of good luck before he left the Great Hall alone, the eyes of the world – so to speak – on him as he walked with dignity, pride and confidence.

The arena was set up in place of the Quidditch Stadium and, as he came into view, Harry heard the voice of Ludo Bagman call him over, "Potter; this way: all champions are required to meet in here."

Moving away from the stadium, Harry entered what appeared to be a large marquee, the reason for such size making sense to him as he found himself face to chest with Madame Maxime, the French Headmistress nodding her head curtly to him. Deciding to do the formal thing – as he figured that overseas allies would be reasonable for the near future – Harry inclined his head to her, before he removed his helmet and, taking her hand, lightly kissed the back.

"Good luck to your champion Headmistress," he told her, before walking over to where he found Cedric Diggory standing with Professor Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster accompanied – much to Harry's surprise – by Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape and Moody, the latter watching the Dark Champion warily. Keeping his distance from the old man, as he _really_ did not wish to interact with anyone who could intrude in his plans, Harry watched as Bagman and Crouch entered the marquee, Karkaroff and Krum with them, the High Master seemingly showing a sense of confidence in his own champion.

As he stood watching them, Harry heard Severus whisper to him, "All three champions knew of the tasks they were to face beforehand; I sincerely hope you have a plan _Potter._"

"Don't worry about me Severus," Harry replied calmly, watching as the three others took their places with the judging panel, "Just worry about what could happen to you and our little ace-in-the-hole if I _don't_ survive this."

The fear that emanated from Severus Snape was like a rare wine to Harry: he had been delving deeper and deeper into the darkness and with that research, Harry had adapted his dark persona to his magic, avoiding the so-called Dark Addiction that the texts in the Complex warned him about. Plus, with regular visits back to Riddle Manor, Harry had been able to vent out his frustration on anything he wished, the darkness able to flow freely from his body.

That was the power he was going to demonstrate against his dragon out there and woe betide any member of the schools that tried to stop him: for Harry had managed to find a little loop-hole in the rules that, if need be, he would use to his advantage:

_Rule 13: Any and all forms of magic, save for the Unforgivables, are allowed to be used by the Champions in the three Tasks; use of the Unforgivables shall result in an immediate disqualification and up to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban._

'Any magic,' thought Harry, moving into place as Crouch beckoned them over, 'That includes my Force abilities: I'll make these fools see who has the power around here.'

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah, yes...your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this.

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green.

It had the number two around its neck And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming. The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground. Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Without any real hesitation, as he knew that there was only one dragon left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

'Perfect,' thought Harry, quickly turning away to retrieve his helmet as his eyes had turned Sith yellow, 'My plans are progressing nicely: as I had hoped, the most fierce of the dragons has become mine: now, to add a little incentive.'

Reaching out with the Force, Harry picked up the minds of the four beasts, their mental presences within him feeling the same as the Krayt Dragon that guarded his treasures. Singling out the Horntail, Harry clenched his hand and willed the Force into the animal's instincts, a mental command echoing through its mind as Harry exclaimed, {You will do whatever you must to protect your eggs!}

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"

When the first whistle went off, Harry kept himself back, his mind and body flowing with Force Energy, his instincts and dark presence rearing their heads as he waited. All they were to do was collect an egg? That wouldn't be too much of a challenge: why, with his power, Harry could wait for his whistle, stand in the entrance to the arena, lift his hand and summon the egg with the Force.

'But that,' the Sith Lord reasoned, 'Is something that a novice would do or, failing that, a _Jedi!_ I am so much more than both of them and now I am going to prove it.'

When the final whistle went off, Harry left the tent, quickly enforcing his armour and cloak with several fire-proof and indestructible charms, his bodily injuries would be handled as and when he returned to the Complex. Moving through the arched entrance to the arena, Harry looked around calmly, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny for sign of his leather-winged opponent, his body moving with grace and determination as he caught sight of the whole school watching him, his eyes picking out Hermione instantly.

{Trust me love,} Harry sent to her, {I will come back to you.}

{You'd better,} she warned him, before Harry stepped around another of the large brick-like barricades…and a plume of red flames filled his vision!

Holding up his hand, Harry crafted a Force Shield that redirected the fiery onslaught all around him, the crimson conflagration consuming him, forming the image of a whirlwind of flames that enveloped his body, the cries and gasps from the students echoing around the arena as the dragon snapped its jaws shut.

"Is that all you got?" asked Harry, startling them all as he emerged, unharmed, from within the flames, the only sign that the flames had come anywhere near him being the smoky tendrils that trailed off his armour. Brushing the smoke away with a mere wave of his hand, Harry examined the beast before him: it was about the size of two Knight Buses placed end to end, a gigantic black-scaled girth that had wings as long as Harry's arm-span, a pair of cold, golden-coloured eyes staring at the armoured being in front of it.

{That's right,} Harry mentally told the dragon; its mind was easy to reach mainly due to his skill with Parseltongue, {I'm the one that told you to do what you must: I am also a Speaker and I can command you to do what I want you to, so don't think to test me with your insolence: now, Fire-Breather, I command you: give me everything you've got!}

The Horntail seemed to oblige, leaping forwards, its wings unfurled as it attempted to gouge Harry in two: however, thanks to his Force abilities, Harry tapped into the will of the Dark Side and moved with such speed that, to him, the dragon appeared to be moving in slow motion.

The sound of crunching stone came from near Harry, the Sith Lord laughing as he asked, "So, the big lizard wants to play? All right: I'll bite: let's play!"

As the onlookers watched with awe and wonder, Harry then pushed out with his hands, red lightning dancing from his fingertips, striking the wings of the dragon and seemingly sending a surge of power through every muscle and sinew in the beast's body, the dragon roaring in pain as it rounded on Harry, spouting off another burst of flame.

Dodging the blast, Harry shook his head, before the smell of burning filled his nostrils: looking down, the Sith Lord caught sight of his cloak; its edges were smouldering and slowly burning away.

"Okay," he growled, removing his cloak with a real showman's flourish, "Now you've pissed me off: that was my favourite cloak: you're being a bad girl and it's time for me to punish you!"

Clearly released from the electrical onslaught, the Horntail took to the skies, the chain that secured it to the ground seemingly straining to its limits as it dived downwards, its claws flared and wanting to destroy this human who dared to insult her.

"I don't think so," Harry growled, lifting both of his hands to the skies, both of them curled into claw-like gestures of his own making: a loud, painful shriek filled the air and, as the three schools watched, Harry pushed down with his hands, the dragon falling to the ground and writhing in pain, its body twisting and its roars echoing through the stands.

"Potter should be disqualified," roared a Hufflepuff, "He's clearly using the Cruciatus on the dragon."

"Dark wizard!" snarled Ron, most of the others taking up the jeer as Harry looked to them, a cold smile forming beneath his helmet.

It was time…

"**A Dark Wizard?**" he asked, his demonic voice ringing through the arena, the iciness and malice within its tone not lost on the students and staff as Harry lowered his hands again, though this time the dragon was released, "**Is that what you mark me as? I'm sure that even someone like myself could not manage to use the Cruciatus without a wand; I mean, who do you think I am? Voldemort?**"

The use of the name had the expected result: combined with the icy tone and malice used by Harry, there were more than shudders being sent through the arena. Yet, as the hush settled once more over the arena, Harry smiled and approached the dragon, placing his hand upon her flank as he spoke to the crowds, "**If I _am_ a Dark Wizard, however, then answer me this: do you really think it's a good idea to piss me off?**"

The crowds of students seemed unable to answer, but Harry, who was using the Force to restore the health and vitality of the majestic beast before him, gave her another command, this time, in Parseltongue. /I am sorry for the pain you were put through for their enjoyment: serve me and I swear you shall never feel that pain again./

The dragon, clearly now fully restored thanks to Harry's gift, looked him squarely in the eyes, her gaze seemingly penetrating his mind before she spoke to him, /You have darkness, young one: a darkness that my soul has hungered to serve ever since my ancestors served the Dragon Lord: for sparing my life…I am yours./

/Then bow to me,/ Harry commanded, /Let's give these fools something to fear./

As the crowds watched, clearly not understanding why Harry's mouth was moving, the dragon reared up with a roar and bowed to him, the expected reactions coming almost immediately as Harry then climbed up the dragon's wings and took a seat in the hollow of the beast's neck. Looking to the stands, Harry gave a laugh, before he leaned down and whispered into the dragon's ear, before the beast took off into the sky, Harry not even needing to hold on tight as she swooped over to the stands, landing on a seemingly make-shift perch above their heads.

Fear was alive in the students that day as Harry then leaned down, over the side of the beast's back, and offered his hand to Hermione, the Sith Princess taking it straight away and joining her champion on the Horntail's back. From there, she gave him a soft kiss on the metal of his helmet, before she gasped as the dragon bent low and, when it seemed that she wanted to take off, there was a loud scream, a gasp of awe and revulsion and, as the Horntail took off into the skies, Harry and Hermione on her back, she left behind a reminder that Hogwarts would never forget.

Ron Weasley, the one who had originally shunned the Dark Champion, was now up to his tomato-haired head…in dragon shit.

Harry, meanwhile, swooped down on the Horntail's back and retrieved the egg, before he turned and, still sat atop his mighty steed, Harry pushed out with the Force, the sounds of snapping and breaking metal followed by roars of grateful thanks as the three other dragons – the Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short Snout and Welsh Green – all took their place around the Horntail, Harry gesturing once with his hand as he commanded, "**GO: Be free from those who would laugh at your imprisonment!**"

The dragons roared once more and took off in three different directions, Harry swooping back to the ground and dismounting the Horntail, the black dragon lowering herself to the ground as she settled next to her new master and mistress.

Hermione, seeing that Harry's trial was over, lifted his helmet from his head and proceeded to kiss him senseless, her mind saying the words that her mouth couldn't. {That was genius! No doubt there's going to be a few pissed off witches and wizards and Ron's going to want revenge.}

{Let him come,} Harry laughed, parting the kiss and standing almost triumphantly next to the black Horntail, "She'll eat him for dinner: I wonder if she likes the taste of weasel?"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Hermione's guess about there being _a few pissed off witches and wizards_ was right on the money as no sooner had Harry returned to the marquee than the flaps were parted and Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Headmistress Madame Maxime entered, followed by Karkaroff, Bagman and Crouch, the latter looking horrified as he stared at Harry.

"Potter," he hissed, "As one of the official Ministry representatives for the Tournament, I demand that you surrender your wand to the panel for testing of the Cruciatus."

"No," Harry replied, expecting this as he then lifted his voice and exclaimed, "I, Harry James Potter do hereby swear on my life and magic that I did not use the Unforgivables in the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament!"

There was a bright and extremely powerful flash of emerald green and, when it faded, Harry shook his head, a cold, scheming smile on his face as he explained, "Well, I'm still alive and…" he pulled out his wand and cast Prongs into the land of the living, "I still have my magic, so you have no evidence against me Crouch, but, being the Ministry, it's no surprise that you're jumping to conclusions."

"But if you did not use the Unforgivables," Dumbledore spoke up, "Then would you care to explain what magic you used against the dragon?"

"Surely even you," Harry replied, staring down Dumbledore, the Dark Side of the Force doing its job to protect his mind and magic from the old man, "Would recognise Elemental Magic when you saw it Headmaster? The Lightning was an Elemental burst of magic channelled to my indecision to survive and the little choking trick; nothing more than a simple Illusion Hex placed on the beast, giving it the impression that it was being strangled by the very chains that bound it to the ground."

"And what about afterwards?" asked McGonagall, "What was it that you were trying to prove by dunking Mr Weasley in the excrement of that beast? What if it had killed either him or Miss Granger?"

"Professor," sighed Harry, his voice dramatically emphasised to prove his point, "Surely you, the Head of Gryffindor, would not be so blind-sighted by your own beliefs that you did not recognise the signs of Parseltongue, the language that I happen to speak? Or did you actually think that I would go into the belly of the beast and out the monster's ass without a real plan?"

"Regardless," Crouch snapped, "Your…_actions_ have cost the Ministry dearly _boy_: you will be fined for the unauthorised release of four Ministry-owned creatures and you will be investigated thoroughly to ensure that this does not happen again."

Harry's cockiness vanished in a heartbeat: an ominous rumble of thunder filled the air, a powerful dark wind blew all around the marquee and, forsaking everything else in the Tournament or in his life, Harry rounded on Crouch, his hand clenched in the same choking gesture, his eyes on full alert as he hissed, "**I warned you Crouch: DO! NOT! CALL! ME! BOY!**"

"Potter!" snapped Snape, suddenly appearing at Harry's side, "Enough: release him!"

"As you wish," Harry remarked, lowering his hand, Crouch falling to the ground as Harry turned back to Dumbledore, "Like it or not, old man: I neither need or require anyone's help to succeed in this Tournament, so Crouch's little mind games won't work on me. Now, I have my egg, don't really give two shits about the scores and offer this warning to my fellow…" he gave an amused snort before he added, "…_contenders:_ stay the hell out of my way, because I am going to show you all _exactly_ what a Dark Champion can do and, if I hear Crouch call me boy one more time, he'll need to be sent to St Mungo's."

"Dumbledore," gasped Crouch, "Surely you are not going to let…_him_ get away with this."

"No I am not Barty," Dumbledore answered, "But Harry is right: we accused him of using spells that he no doubt knew were forbidden in the Tournament and has endured trials that none of us can compare to: therefore, as punishment for his actions, I hereby suggest he is kept in the dark as to the next Task's contents."

"**Fine!**" growled Harry, the golden egg in his hand shattering as his rage was forced into it, "Not like I _need_ to worry anyway: also, as to avoid anymore acts of vengeance or bigotry against me or the one I love, I, Harry Potter, Gryffindor student, hereby plead to Severus Snape for sanctuary under Slytherin's protection."

"Accepted," Severus answered, a strange feeling of understanding working through him: as a Slytherin, Harry wouldn't need to pretend who he was as Slytherins were born to serve the Dark Lord and, as his son, Harry would be their key student. However, there was after the Tournament to consider, but Severus, being Head of House, knew how to get around that, "Provisionally."

"What are the provisions?" asked Harry, aware of fear now coming from Dumbledore: this was going according to plan.

"That your workload and personal standards increase," Severus explained, "That you do not use this mysterious wandless magic of yours on your fellow students and that, at the end of this school year, you and I meet to discuss a permanent place in Slytherin House."

"Accepted," Harry remarked, later noticing the Slytherin Crest on his robe, his armour shining with the light of all the magic that had been displayed that day.

Dumbledore, Crouch and the whole faculty were left stunned, watching as Harry left the marquee, Hermione next to him, sharing his success at his plans going ahead, the two of them freed from their traps and manipulators.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When Harry entered the Slytherin Common Room, flanked by Hermione, both of them dressed in their armour, the reaction was almost deafening: cheers and shouts of congratulations rang around the room, none of the snakes even bothering to mention the fact that a Muggleborn was among their ranks. Amidst well-wishes, pats on the back and his hand being shook by everyone in the room, Harry finally found his way to a private desk in the Common Room; clambering on top of it, the Sith Lord held up his hand and the room fell silent.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked straight, the answer surprising him as all of Slytherin answered in unison:

"YES, MY LORD!"

"Yes," Harry replied, "I am _not_ Harry Potter, but someone else altogether: my true identity was a lie for many years but, in the last few months, I have found my true self and become the dark, powerful being that you all just witnessed in the first trial. My real name is Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, son and heir of the Dark Lord and Lady and Heir of Slytherin: outside of these walls, you shall address me as nothing other than Harry or Potter. Now, is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord!"

"Excellent," smiled Harry, looking to the snakes as he then had a flash of inspiration; lifting his hand again, Harry swept his arm across every head in the room, his voice ringing out as he exclaimed, "**_You shall never forget these instructions and obey them to the point where you shall know pain if you betray me._**"

"Yes my Lord," the House replied, albeit this time, their voices were calm and monotone, Harry's Force Domination taking full effect as he leaped down, snapping his fingers in time, thus releasing the House of Slytherin from their trance, the cheers and celebrations continuing, Harry finally glad that he could have a place where he could lose the Harry Potter mask that he had worn for so long and finally embrace who and what he was:

Harry Riddle;

Son of the Dark Lord;

Prince of Darkness and Lord of the Sith;

He knew that the Slytherins were his allies and he would use this to his full advantage, despite the fact that Dumbledore believed that Harry had a disadvantage in not knowing the second task.

'Well,' thought Harry, 'Such a shame that Dumbledore doesn't know about my rather _persuasive_ personality.'

**Episode 14 and, while Harry has a new lease on life and can finally stop pretending to be someone he's not, the Tournament continues, but how can Harry use his Slytherin side to become the Dark Champion?**

**Also, what will happen when Harry decides to take his revenge on those who he feels deserve it? (By that I mean Karkaroff and Crouch…for now.)**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Dark Champion meets with a certain tabloid reporter and decides to ensure that his reign as champion isn't put down by some tart; also, the Yule Ball is announced and Ginny is surprised as to who asks her; plus, as the Ball nears, Harry makes a plan to make a real impression on the night and a challenge is issued to the Sith Lord; will he accept? What do you think?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**NOTE: I would like to thank king1367 for the idea of how to treat the dragon in this chapter;**


	15. Episode 15

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 14:**

**Zamia: I've decided to save Karkaroff's punishment for just before the Third Task, but it will be real pain for the betrayer;**

**King1367: yes he did; an interesting idea about the Force Sense; once again, you've inspired me: thanks!**

**LovinLife710: Are you aware that your review was posted twice? Anyway, thanks for the comments;**

**Mkeeg91: Do you honestly think that Harry would leave Hermione out of Slytherin even _if_ Dumbledore said no? I don't think so;**

**Harryhermionealways: There are some presents that are nothing more than _piles of crap_; there's one such example;**

**MariusDarkwolf: I'm not really taking votes as I have Bella's rescue and the reunion all set up in my mind, but thanks for your opinion;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_He knew that the Slytherins were his allies and he would use this to his full advantage, despite the fact that Dumbledore believed that Harry had a disadvantage in not knowing the second task._

_'Well,' thought Harry, 'Such a shame that Dumbledore doesn't know about my rather persuasive personality.'_

Episode 15: An Unexpected Announcement

The morning after Harry had been placed among the House of the Snakes, he awoke in his new four-poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory, the silhouettes of Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy on either side of him, his armour standing on a mannequin retrieved from the Complex. Being down in the dungeons, Harry knew that the darkness in him would only be outmatched by the near pitch-black, torch-lit environment that was usually provided by the dungeons and Harry's potions lessons.

Rising from his bed, Harry crossed the room in a few short strides and began to prepare his armour, a soft shuffling behind him telling him that his dorm-mates were awake and seemingly prepared to do anything he desired. Hearing them move from their beds, Harry spread out his arms and watched with amusement as Draco helped fix his arm and chest armour into place, Blaise sliding the helmet over Harry's head as the Sith Prince heaved a deep sigh before he spoke, "Thank you boys, though it was unnecessary: I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"We understand that my Prince," Blaise remarked, his usually neutral attitude abandoned in the presence of the Prince of Darkness, "But Slytherins look out for one another and are always on hand to answer the call of the Dark Family. May I also add that it is a delight to finally see you back amongst those who would respect your power rather than those who would have you hide it."

"You may say that," Harry answered, his voice distorted by his dark helmet, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a certain new Slytherin who I need to say good morning to."

As Harry made his way through to the Slytherin Common Room, a sudden cold wave spread across the corridor, making the hairs on his neck stand on end as he whispered, "I sense a disturbance in the Force."

Tapping into the power of the Force, Harry increased his pace and just reached the Common Room when he heard a thick voice speak to some unknown figure, "What? You think that because you have the Prince's right hand means you're someone around here? Screw that Mudblood!"

That word told Harry enough: Hermione was being harassed and, as he entered the Common Room, it was almost like déjà vu as he saw Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott ganging up on the Sith Princess, the pug-faced Slytherin with her hand in the air.

"**Don't you even think of striking her Parkinson!**" snarled Harry, his demonised voice ringing across the Common Room, the Sith Prince smiling as he saw Nott's face paling with fright, before Hermione moved around the two and took her place next to her lover. Taking Hermione into his arms, Harry reached into their bond and asked, {My love, are you harmed?}

{No Giudizio,} answered Hermione, {They tried, but my powers lashed out and protected me.}

{I know,} Harry replied, liking the sound of his Sith-born name, {I felt it.}

Keeping Hermione in his embrace, Harry looked up to Nott and Parkinson, his magic now flowing freely from his armour, making what light was in the room suddenly dim and almost freeze over, his power of Flash Freezing making the fourth years shiver with fear as Harry stared them down. "Now," he asked, his voice human again, though still tinged with the raw power of the Dark Side, "Don't tell me that you were considering abusing the one I love, were you Parkinson? And you Nott, whose Father has the honour and privilege of standing among those who serve my Father so closely, why would you seek to dishonour the dark gifts bestowed upon your family by attacking the Princess to the Dark Prince?"

Theo, trembling with fear as he saw the dragon within Harry finally baring its fangs, staggered towards the Sith Prince, before he lowered himself to his knees and, like so many Death Eaters, actually kissed the hem of Harry's long black cloak before he spoke up, "My Young Master, I beg your forgiveness: when we saw Granger among our ranks, we thought her only here at the whim of Harry Potter; we had no idea she was so well-respected by you, my Prince."

"And," Harry asked, his hand clenched into a fist as he tried his hardest not to react to what he was hearing, "Only last night Nott, what did I say about Harry Potter?"

"Th-that you are n-not P-Potter," stammered Nott, his face low to the ground, his tall, weedy appearance making him look weak and inferior to the power that stood before him, "B-But you are your t-true self and you have accepted that p-part of you."

"Correct," Harry growled, his magic now being drawn into his armour as he hissed, "Now, while I would just love to punish you for your insolence, I want my darker persona to remain believable as a magical skill and not my own dark gifts…so your punishment will have to wait. For now, I want the truth: who _dared_ to call my Hermione that word in my earshot?"

"I did," Pansy answered, though she did not falter; instead, she practically swaggered over to Harry, her greed-filled glare now reminding Harry of his cousin's piggy eyes as she looked to Hermione, who was now being held close to Harry, her hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, before Pansy spoke again, "And I stand true to it: she is unworthy to be anywhere near you, my Prince: power and the love and admiration of someone like you should not be wasted on someone like…like _her._"

"I see," Harry remarked, his free hand now flexing its fingers dangerously, Hermione smirking as she felt the waves and pulses of power from her dark ruler just _begging_ to come out and play. Lifting this hand, Harry shook his head as he whispered, "**That…was the wrong answer Parkinson: now allow me to show you why I _am_ the Prince of Darkness!**"

Pansy's eyes seemed to widen, her eyes not looking at Harry, but to the left of him, her lip trembling and her hands shaking as she stepped back, "No; y-you can't be here. Y-you're dead: he killed you: y-you're dead!"

"Oh Pansy," a ghostly apparition replied, "When will you learn that you will never be rid of me?"

While the rest of Slytherin paid witness to Pansy Parkinson seemingly screaming at the air, afraid of something only she could see, Harry and Hermione smiled coldly, the Sith Prince holding his hand outwards, his eyes on full Sith colours under his helmet as he paid witness to the power of the Dark Side. This was a power he had not really field-tested, not even on Wormtail or his relatives, but its effect was just as disastrous and Dark Side-fuelled as Force Storm and Force Choke.

For Harry knew that what Pansy could see was a Force-induced hallucination of her own worst nightmare – similar to what a normal wizard heard within the regions of a Dementor or saw in a Boggart – and, as Harry pushed his power, rage and sense of true evil into the power, he knew that it was only going to get worse for Pansy.

"D-D-Daddy," gasped Parkinson, "P-P-Please don't hurt me: it w-w-wasn't my fault."

"Oh yes it was," laughed the apparition of fear; Pansy's Father, Adrian Parkinson, a man whom Harry had learned to be put to death for betraying the Dark Lord in the closing stages of the First War.

At his side, Harry heard Hermione ask Draco, "Why does she fear her Father?"

"When Pansy was a baby," Draco answered, "Her Father, who was a proud member of pureblood society and a strong believer in the ways of heritage, wanted a son instead of a daughter; so he cast many different curses and subjected both Pansy and her mother to an array of experiments, in the hopes of either turning Pansy into a boy or forcibly impregnating her mother. When…the Dark Lord fell the first time, Adrian Parkinson sold his soul to the devil and was cast through the Veil of Death for child endangerment and believably losing his mind: Pansy's mother was admitted to St Mungo's where she still has regular potion doses even today and Pansy herself was cared for by her Aunt. Princess?" he then asked, looking to Hermione, more than aware that Harry held the young Muggleborn in too high a position of respect to call her anything else, "What _is_ he doing to her?"

"Believe me," Hermione answered, "You don't want to know: pray you never feel this power Draco; even if you _are _his cousin, he will still put you through hell."

"Oh Pansy," Mr Parkinson sighed, Hermione hearing Draco gasp as he realised the words spoken by the apparition were actually coming from Harry, like he was some kind of malicious puppet-master, "You just _had_ to be a girl didn't you? Well, don't worry; come here my girl, let Daddy make it all better! It will be as easy as being given one of your magical shots; it will only hurt for a moment and then you'll be able to say that Daddy is so proud of you: come to me, my daughter, let me make it all better."

The scream that rang through the Slytherin Dormitory was loud enough to wake the dead, before Pansy actually tripped over her own feet and fell to the floor in a dead faint, her face paler than death itself, her body twitching, Harry lowering his hand as he looked to the assembled Slytherins, the older years watching as the first and second years learned their lesson that day.

Don't piss off the Dark Prince…or else…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Serious panic attack;

That was what Madam Pomfrey explained to be Parkinson's condition and, by the end of the day, the pug-faced Slytherin was a new member of the St Mungo's community, Harry using the evident fear and shock that had spread through the snake pit to strengthen his dark resolve. The remainder of the fourth years knew and understood now why Harry had come to their dormitory escorted by Hermione Granger and there wasn't a soul alive that would challenge that decision.

Making his way to breakfast, Harry sat with the Slytherins, Draco and Daphne taking their respected spots as the morning edition of the Daily Prophet arrived on the table; however, before Harry could even begin to enjoy the most important meal of the day, his dark persona reared its head again at the headline:

_CONTENDER'S CONSENSUAL CHAOS_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The Triwizard Tournament, an event that promotes inter-school relations and strong will and determination between those selected, has been seriously disgraced by the actions of the Fourth Triwizard Champion, Harry James Potter._

_Mr Potter, aged 12 – five years younger than the registered allowed age for the champions – has seemingly chosen to use dark, borderline forbidden magic to win this tournament, hosted this time around by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yesterday, in the First Task of the Tournament, the four champions were asked to retrieve a golden dragon's egg that would hold a clue to the next task. Mr Potter, however, not only completed this task, but proceeded to insult the honour of an innocent pureblood heir that shall remain nameless and conduct certain dark spells without a wand upon his dragon, the fierce Hungarian Horntail._

_As if that wasn't enough, when Potter was accused by his fellow peers of using a version of the Cruciatus and being addressed as a Dark Wizard, he said the following words:_

_"If I am a Dark Wizard, do you really think it's a good idea to piss me off?"_

_Following his question, young Mr Potter used Parseltongue – a proven dark trait – to drive the dragons into a feral state, the innocents of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons being forced to watch as Potter dragged their school's name through the mud._

_When later questioned by judge member Bartemius Crouch Senior, Mr Potter replicated the effect of the wandless cruciatus on the judge and told him not to call him a boy, before disrespecting Headmaster Dumbledore and ordering the sanctuary of Slytherin House – the very House that held the one who seeks to kill Potter at any means necessary._

_Are these the actions of a sane man? In this reporter's opinion, it won't be long before we have a force even worse than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on our hands and we can only wonder how the world will survive when the only punishment administered to the recently named _Dark Champion_ is a slap on the wrist and a forbidden assistance with the Tournament's next clue._

The Daily Prophet suddenly burst into flames, Harry's anger now going sky-high as he hissed, "How _dare_ she? An innocent pureblood heir? Aged 12? Who the fuck is this bitch anyway?"

"Rita Skeeter," answered Draco, "She works for Fudge and has been given high recommendations for finding a way to get the inside story: don't worry Harry, I'll get in touch with Father and have her silenced."

"No," Harry remarked, holding up his hand, "It's obvious that she's somehow finding a way to get to me; a challenge? I like a challenge; it seems like an age since my last one."

"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione.

"I'm going to answer her challenge," Harry replied, "I'm going to find out how she does this and then, when the time is right, I'm going to show her what _the force worse than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ can really do."

"And what do you want us to do?" asked Draco, "If she targets those closest to you, who knows what kind of reports she'll unleash?"

"Don't you worry about that one," Harry answered, an icy chuckle escaping his lips as the lower part of his helmet opened, allowing him to eat his breakfast, "If I'm right, Miss Skeeter will find a way to get to me: it's just a matter of keeping my eyes on the prize."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

It was another three days before any real kind of action was witnessed at Hogwarts; the Gryffindors and Slytherins had just finished their lesson with Professor McGonagall before the Head of Gryffindor had spoken up, "I have something to say to you all; the Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish."

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, who was pretending to pay attention to McGonagall, his helmet faced in her direction when, in reality, the Sith Prince was contemplating whether or not to even consider answering the obvious challenge here.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then…" Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class. "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Even Harry could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter - a word, if you please."

Assuming this had something to do with his status as the fourth champion, Harry proceeded to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "Potter, the champions and their partners…"

"What partners?" said Harry quickly; why did everyone always drop things on him at the last second?

Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

Harry's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel; his hands suddenly curled into fists and his breath was suddenly forced from his lungs: he had an idea of who he'd dance with at the Ball, but there was one small problem. "Dance partners?" He felt himself going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly.

"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

Harry had a sudden mental image of himself in a top hat and tails, accompanied by a girl in the sort of frilly dress Aunt Petunia always wore to Uncle Vernon's work parties.

"I'm not dancing," he said.

"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter."

"But - I don't -"

"You heard me, Potter," said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.

"No," Harry answered flatly, his own voice countering the final indication that Professor McGonagall had told him, "I already told your esteemed Headmaster that, while I am a champion, I _do not_ represent Hogwarts: that job falls to Cedric Diggory…not me. Oh," he then added, smiling under his helmet as he saw McGonagall purse her lips, "Don't worry _Professor_, I'll be at the ball, but I won't be representing the school or your so-called _noble_ Gryffindorks. No, I'll be there representing…_me!_"

With that, he turned on his heel, summoned his bag to his side and left the classroom, making for the Chamber of Secrets in an attempt to calm the raging storm that had been building since Skeeter's report.

'Well,' he thought slyly, 'That and I have a date to ask.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"Yes, yes, yes; a thousand times yes!" shrieked Hermione when she finally stopped kissing Harry, the Sith Prince smiling at his girlfriend as he should have guessed her answer to the question. "But what will we…"

"Leave that to me," Harry smiled, "I've been exploring this place and found some rather _interesting_ things around here: trust me Princess."

"Always," Hermione replied, giving Harry another kiss, their passionate moment being interrupted by a familiar figure clearing his throat.

"Yes Neville?" asked Harry, Hermione now resting her head on his chest as the Mandalorian Commander appeared at the entrance: other than the Elites, he was the only other one that Harry allowed to come and go from the Complex as he pleased.

"Harry," he answered, "I couldn't help but hear about your encounter with McGonagall and, well, if you're interested, Sicarius said that she'd be more than willing to help you learn how to dance."

"Tell her thanks," Harry replied, "And I'll see her tomorrow for our first lesson: by the way, who are you going with?"

"Daphne," Neville answered, "But Ginny's still in shock."

"Why?" asked Hermione, "Who asked her?"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"YOU WHAT?"

The laughter-aided exclamation echoed around the Slytherin Common Room as Harry, Draco, Blaise, Daphne and Hermione were looking over some Defence Homework.

"It's true," Harry answered, putting a seemingly friendly arm around his cousin's shoulders, "Draco here asked Ginny Weasley to the ball: well, well; talk about Romeo and Juliet."

"Weird," joked Daphne, "I thought that was the situation with Neville and I."

"It is," Hermione agreed, "Though if you want strange, then _that's_ it: I shudder to think what will happen when the Gryffindors learn about this."

"Especially the Dead Man Walking," Harry added, before he scoffed and added, "Or should that be the Dung Man Walking?"

Laughter rang through the Slytherin Common Room as the Riddle Heir shook his head, his eyes on his cousin with a sense of amusement as he asked, "So, when did you ask her and more importantly, why?"

"Well," Draco admitted, "At first, I thought it would be funny for the Gryffindors to see some of their members going with some of ours, but then I began to think and, in a weird, Twilight Zone kind of way, I guess that…I think she's…well, cute."

"That makes sense," Harry agreed, looking to Hermione, his face twisting into an expression of confusion as he added, {Maybe on Planet Draco.}

The Sith Princess coughed hard, covering up her laughter as she then asked, "And what did she say when you asked her?"

"Well, admittedly she was doubtful," Draco admitted, "But I told her that this wasn't a joke and then…well, I kind of dropped your name in there Harry."

"Makes sense," Harry nodded, "Ginny owes me a debt; doing this, believably for me, would see her as paying off that debt, especially since the only other decent fourth year is already taken."

"Yeah," chorused Hermione and Daphne, "By me."

It was on that day that the five Slytherins realised that they respected one another, not only as Harry's lesser to the Dark Prince, but as friends: in one single moment, the ghosts of the past were put behind them.

Now they only had to make it last…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Despite the very heavy load of homework that the fourth years had been given for the holidays. Harry was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying himself as fully as possible along with everyone else. Whether it was the thought of going to a ball with his Sith Princess or the fact that, for nearly a whole month now, he had been able to act as himself, Harry didn't know, but his darker persona seemed to take a vacation and allow Harry to have some fun.

He didn't need to hurt anyone else, not even the Walking Shit Pile, and had spent the majority of his free time either learning and revising dance steps with the surprisingly spry Sicarius or Hermione or he was enjoying his newfound social life with the Slytherins, though there was still no sign of Pansy Parkinson – not that she was missed in the Snake Pit.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," they heard her saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening. "I will not fit into my dress robes!"

"Oooh there's a tragedy," Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the entrance hall. "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"

"Now, now Hermione," Harry remarked, his voice almost a mirror of Lucius Malfoy, "Play nicely: she thinks she'll look like the fairy princess that her lot dream themselves as; well, as far as I'm concerned, there'll be three Princesses who have their Princes Charming on the night."

"Three?" asked Hermione, following Harry down to the dungeons, the Slytherin Common Room welcoming them as Harry answered her.

"Oh yes," he grinned, "Their names: Daphne Greengrass, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger; their princes: Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy and Harry…Riddle."

"You hesitated," Hermione noted, watching as Harry made his way down the corridor that led to the Slytherin Boys' Dormitories.

"Waiting for the entrance to close," Harry explained, before he stopped, turned to her, removed his helmet and pulled her into his embrace, giving his Princess a deep and passionate kiss as he whispered, "Don't worry Mione; I haven't denied who I am for a whole month now and, while I'm still in the dark as to which side I choose in the war that is to come, I know this much: I _am_ Harry Riddle, then, now and forever."

"I'm glad," Hermione whispered, placing her head on his armoured chest, her brow furrowed as she added, "Oh, by the way you, I do have one thing to say about the Ball."

"What's that Princess?"

"Wear that armour on the night," she warned him, "And you'll be sleeping without me for a whole month."

"As you wish," Harry replied, giving Hermione a soft kiss as he told her, "I wasn't planning on wearing it anyway."

As Hermione turned away and made her way back to the Girls' Dormitories, Harry sighed and rubbed a hand across his brow, "That was a close one."

{I heard that,} Hermione's voice told him.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

On Christmas Day, Harry spent the majority of the day avoiding his date as he didn't wish to spoil the surprise for the night; instead, he allowed his time to pass by with studies and meditations, his mind working on overtime as he considered everything that was still to come in the year, most importantly of all being his Father's resurrection.

'Why am I still undecided?' Harry thought to himself, 'I know who I am; I know what I am, so why am I still so undecided and in two minds about which path I take?'

When no answer came to him, Harry made his way through to his private chambers in the Complex, his mind now focused on the event that was mere hours away.

The entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. The only one of the Slytherins to turn up so far was Harry, but, as he looked to the stairway and the dungeons, a smile crossed his face as he saw his three-way escorts all moving towards him.

First came Neville and, when Harry saw him, he had to make sure he wasn't seeing things: Neville didn't just look like a pureblood; he emitted an aura of confidence and strength that had Harry wondering how so much had changed in such a short space of time. The Mandalorian Commander was dressed in long, flowing white robes that seemed to billow all around him, a streak of crimson crossing over his shoulders like a guard's medal of some kind, the suit beneath the white robes set in a deep shade of grey and black, his dark hair combed to perfection, and his robes tied off at the waist, allowing a full view of his dark suit.

From the dungeons, Harry smiled as he saw Daphne approaching and, when she saw Neville, the Sith Prince smiled as he saw her bow to him, before Neville kissed her hand and offered her his arm. Daphne was dressed in a silver-coloured dress that was lined with a light-blue edge, a ribbon of white tied into her hair and an array of strands seemingly woven into the arms of the dress, making it seem like a veil of ice had covered her body.

"Daphne," Harry whispered, "You look…beautiful."

"Careful Harry," Neville smiled, "You wouldn't want Hermione to get jealous, would you?"

"No chance of that," Daphne commented, looking to Harry, "It's plain to see why you're the one for her Harry."

"Thanks," Harry remarked and, in all honesty, he had to agree: his suit was a long black robe that was flecked with spots of white lightning, the spots shimmering and moving around the suit like the constellations of the night sky; beneath the robe, Harry wore a suit of ice-blue and silver that seemed to make him glow in the ethereal scene of winter presented by the Ball; his wild black hair had finally been tamed and trimmed to the style that he loved, his fringe sticking out like a pair of bat wings, his wintry suit set against a white background that made him look like the Prince he knew he was.

"Holy shit," whispered Neville suddenly and, when Harry turned, he saw why: A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Draco was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which in Harry's opinion made him look like a vicar, but, beneath those robes, Harry saw his cousin to be dressed in an emerald green shirt with the Slytherin monogram, his arm around a vision of beauty that, if it weren't for the fact Harry knew who he was going with, he would never have recognised.

Ginny looked like the proverbial Snow Queen: she was dressed in a similar silver-coloured dress to Daphne, though hers was matched by a snow-white veil that wrapped around her arms and down her breasts and back, the lower part of her gown looking like freshly-laid snow as she walked towards them, Draco nodding with respect to Harry.

"Looks like we all chose the same idea," Draco commented, "Ice and Winter."

"Actually," Harry laughed, lowering his voice as he added, "Hermione warned me not to wear my armour and so I chose this theme of Fire and Ice for the two of us, what with her being a recognised Gryffindor and myself being a newly crowned Slytherin."

"Very appropriate," Ginny laughed, looking to Harry's wintry suit as she asked, "So where is the Fire Princess?"

"I haven't seen…her…all…day…" Harry trailed off pretty quickly as the Slytherin gathering all turned to the stairs, Neville cursing the fates again and Draco giving a low wolf-whistle as he nudged his cousin.

"You're a lucky bastard Harry," he whispered, looking to the apparition that had seemingly taken its place on the steps.

Hermione Granger was dressed in a flowing dress and gown of Gryffindor colours, the red and gold meshing together so well that it made her look like living fire, the silken design of the dress making it look like Hermione was wearing a coat of phoenix feathers. Her usually messy brown hair was tied behind her in a ponytail, a white silk glove over her right hand, a pair of high heels on her feet.

As she walked towards them, Harry crossed the hallway and held out his hand, Hermione placing her gloveless hand into his as he lifted it to his lips and gave her a light kiss, before offering her his arm, Hermione only then noticing that, for the first time in a long time, Harry's emerald eyes shone like frosted gems; there was no trace of the Sith within him anywhere.

"My Ice Prince," she smiled, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

"My Fire Princess," Harry replied, returning the kiss as he asked, "How did you…"

"I took your advice," Hermione explained, "This dress belonged, you'll never believe this, but it belonged to Bastila herself and has been kept in perfect condition: I added the glove and my own little charms so that I'd impress you."

"Hermione," Harry whispered, "Just you being you impresses me, which reminds me; close your eyes."

She obliged, Harry placing a finger to his lips, shushing Draco as he removed an item from the pocket of his wintry suit, before he stepped behind Hermione and, being very careful not to disrupt the vision of beauty that he would forever call his lover, Harry draped the item around her neck, his voice whispering, "Open your eyes."

Hermione did so, and she gasped when she looked down and saw a silver pendant bearing a red stone on its clasp, the stone shaped like a bolt of lightning, the interior of the stone seemingly filled with a golden hue.

"What?" she asked, Harry smiling as he answered her.

"It's called a Phoenix Crystal: I found it in the Complex and it just seemed right; the pendant was something I got from…my anonymous benefactor."

{Your Father?}

{Yes; apparently, Mother gave it to him when they started going out.}

"I love it," Hermione whispered, before she gasped when Harry gently tugged at the collar of his wintry-coloured shirt and revealed a similar pendant, though this one was silver in colour, a core of ice-blue at its heart.

"A matching set," Harry explained, "Fire and Ice, united by this night."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, gently kissing Harry's lips, the pair of them moving to join the steadily-rising number of students in the Entrance Hall, before Professor McGonagall appeared and told everyone to move into the hall, Harry noticing his other champions and their dates being kept behind: what surprised him was the identities of the dates:

Cedric Diggory was paired up with a Ravenclaw girl that Harry recalled to be named Cho Chang;

Fleur Delacour was paired up with none other than Blaise Zabini – 'Lucky bastard,' thought Harry, noticing several envious looks;

Viktor Krum was paired by none other than the younger Greengrass Astoria, Harry aware of Daphne's look of shock when her sister revealed herself.

"Wonder who Weasley got," Hermione whispered as they took their places.

"I don't know," Harry answered, "And I don't care: tonight…it's all about you Princess…I swear it."

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Hermione seemed to be enjoying herself; she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully that he felt as though he were a show dog she was putting through its paces. Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like disgust as he watched Krum and Astoria draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Harry suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry, on the other hand, turned away and moved from the Champions' Table to join his friends, Draco and Ginny moving one paired seating down so that Harry and Hermione had the top end of the table.

"Prepare for trouble," Harry whispered, watching as McGonagall fixed him with her hardest stare; Harry, however, blatantly ignored her and turned his attention to his friends.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Harry, after ordering his own meal of roast beef, began to eat when he felt a prickling on the back of his neck. Turning his head slowly to the side, Harry smiled as he saw Professor Snape standing there, the man wearing his ever present black robes, though now they seemed to be trimmed with a rather fetching emerald green that made him look almost normal.

"Professor," Harry remarked, "What brings you here?"

"Why are you not seated with the Champions Mr Potter?" asked Severus, earning a sigh from Harry, who returned his attention to his meal.

"I'm not some showman who they can display; they choose to hate me, so I choose to be away from them." As he went to eat, Harry then held a second thought as he added, "Besides, the company's much better than someone who would choose to babble on about Crouch and cauldron bottom thickness all night: sorry if I offend you sir."

Severus, much to Harry's surprise, left it at that, the Sith Prince smiling as he returned to his meal; when everyone had eaten their fill, the tables were removed and Harry and Hermione joined the other champions on the dance floor, a slow, ballroom tune echoing throughout the Great Hall as Harry and Hermione moved like two spirits in the wintry scene, Harry allowing his lover to take the lead.

Not long afterwards, they were joined by Draco, Neville and, much to Harry's surprise, Theo Nott whom Harry saw to be escorted by a third-year Ravenclaw with white hair and an angelic face; she was dressed in a midnight-blue gown that made Theo's almost Slytherin-coloured dress robes look illuminating.

"That's Luna Lovegood," Hermione whispered, "She's a Raven who doesn't really get on with her dorm-mates: apparently, she's also got Seer blood and has a fond belief in the creatures of the ether."

"Interesting," Harry whispered as the tune finished and Harry, kissing Hermione's hand out of occasion, moved to a table on the edge of the room, where he and Hermione were offered drinks by Ginny and Draco, the young Gryffindor sitting with her friends as she looked to the floor.

"So," Harry finally spoke up, "Draco eh?"

"Well," Ginny answered, "When he said it was for your favour, I couldn't say no: besides, when you get to know him, he's okay…I guess."

"That's good," Hermione replied, "Because Harry didn't say anything about you or him: he asked you on his own terms Ginny."

"Really?" asked Ginny.

"Really," Harry replied, before he found himself under attack…from Ginny's hugs and Hermione's soft kisses, Draco returning moments later to a scene that showed just what Harry was underneath all that bravado.

A big kid enjoying time with his friends;

Truly…it was a very Merry Christmas…

**Episode 15 and Harry and Hermione have had a Merry Christmas, but can this alliance of Lions and Snakes continue or will outside forces drive them apart?**

**Plus, can Harry begin to balance his light and dark sides or will one side completely dominate the other?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry discovers the Second Task, learns of the twist, which brings out the beast again, and confronts Rita Skeeter with an offer even _she_ couldn't refuse; plus, a new coalition is formed to protect the alliances formed at the Ball and Theo wishes to have a quiet word with his lord; also, after months of waiting, Ron Weasley goes for revenge…but fails…with surprising results…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**NOTE: I hope everyone liked what I did with the Yule Ball and, if you think the Theo/Luna thing should go further, then let me know;**

**SECOND NOTE: I would like to apologise for getting rid of Rise of the Sith Sorcerer, but the rewrite HAS been posted and I hope to make it more original rather than just copying one of my other stories into that one;**


	16. Episode 16

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 15:**

**Angel Slyth: Thanks for pointing that out; I have changed it to the right wording;**

**Zamia: Calm before the storm? You'd be right…in more ways than one;**

**Jd Midnight: There will be more moments where Harry shows his kid side; remember that I labelled this a Family fic, so it's pretty much self-explanatory;**

**Redbird27: In the movie of GOF, Rita would always insist that Harry was 12 instead of 14; I thought it something rather fun to put in;**

**King1367: Once again, you've given me an awesome idea on how to deal with things; I just hope that no-one's disappointed by my change in canon;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_"You hesitated," Hermione noted, watching as Harry made his way down the corridor that led to the Slytherin Boys' Dormitories._

_"Waiting for the entrance to close," Harry explained, before he stopped, turned to her, removed his helmet and pulled her into his embrace, giving his Princess a deep and passionate kiss as he whispered, "Don't worry Mione; I haven't denied who I am for a whole month now and, while I'm still in the dark as to which side I choose in the war that is to come, I know this much: I am Harry Riddle, then, now and forever."_

Episode 16: The Scent of Fear

After the Yule Ball, life seemed to return to normality for all three schools, the now infamous Slytherin Circlet that was those who had gone to the Ball seemingly being made famous by their believably willing alliance of Gryffindors and Slytherin, most of the other students putting it down to the Dark Champion's influence while only those within the Circlet knew the truth.

Unfortunately for the students, they weren't the only ones who believed Harry to be the cause of this alliance, as the New Year edition of the Daily Prophet proved;

_DARK CHAMPION DOMINATES CHILDREN_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_For nearly as long as Hogwarts has remained standing, there has always been a deep and hated rivalry between the houses of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. However, through his seemingly impossible means and dark persona, one Harry James Potter has seemingly severed those rivalries and hypnotised members of Gryffindor into his Dark Alliance._

_Hermione Granger, a Muggleborn witch of 14 years, and Ginevra Weasley, a proud pureblood heiress of 13 years, both attended the Yule Ball, an infamous event that helps to promote the inter-personal relationships between the three schools, with two members of this dark alliance; Miss Weasley attended with Draco Malfoy, son of the believably-Imperioused Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy while Miss Granger was in attendance with the crowned Dark Champion himself, both of them unafraid to show their alliance through the means of kisses and outfits that mirrored their Houses._

_However, it would also appear that while even a Muggleborn cannot resist Potter's dark charms, his influence even stretches to those who share his personal trauma; Neville Longbottom, aged 14, was in attendance with Daphne Greengrass, another second generation member of a family whose parents were believably under the influence of the Imperious. While Mr Longbottom and Miss Greengrass clearly have a history, this reporter is left to wonder just how far Potter is willing to extend his reach; Muggleborns and Half-Bloods we could forgive, but to draw in two proud pureblood members: have you no shame Potter?_

_When asked about the relationship between this dark alliance, an anonymous source answered, "Potter has always had it in for those snakes; strutting around here like he's someone special. Before that Muggleborn joined his side, he was as thick as thieves with the Gryffindors, especially me. Now he swaggers around in a suit that makes him look inhuman and socialises with damned Slytherins and Death Eater wannabes. In my opinion, Potter always was a Death Eater under all that bravado; hell, he probably killed his parents himself."_

Once again, Harry had barely reached the end of the article before it burst into flames, his once emerald green eyes now fully Sith as he turned to face the Gryffindor Table, a familiar pig-impersonating member of the lions telling him just who Skeeter's anonymous source was.

{Harry,} Hermione warned him, {Don't do anything you'll regret later.}

{Good thing I won't regret it,} Harry remarked, his voice like ice as he turned back to the Slytherins and beckoned with one finger; gathering around their lord, Draco, Daphne and even Theo listened as Harry whispered, "I…want…Weasley! Bring him to the second floor bathroom before sunset or I will find another target."

"As you command," Draco remarked, Hermione moving her hands to her boyfriend's shoulders in an attempt to soothe the rising dragon that had now joined the snakes.

Surprisingly, she didn't feel any kind of remorse or sorrow for whatever it was that Harry would be planning…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

After their last lesson – Defence – Harry and Hermione made their way to the second floor, the Sith Prince seemingly walking with strength and determination as he was almost running, his hands curled into fists, his dark cloak billowing out behind him, his eyes almost crackling with raw magic. Stopping outside the bathroom, Harry turned and kissed Hermione on the lips, his voice colder than cold as he told her, "I may need to disappear for a while after this: will you be okay without me?"

"Do what you need to, my love," Hermione replied, "I'll be fine: we both know Neville will keep…"

She was suddenly cut off as Harry placed a hand over her mouth, his eyes scanning the corridor, a snarl curling on his lip as he whispered, "Keep quiet: we're not alone."

Stepping past Hermione, Harry calmed what emotions he could grasp, before he reached out with the Force and spread his Force Vision across the hallway, willing the power of the Dark Side to show him that which could not be seen by normal means. At his command, Harry's eyes appeared to become slit-pupils, a powerful band of red and gold now filling his eyes as he looked around, before he pushed out with his hand, a soft thud coming from their right.

Negating his visionary power, Harry walked over to where the thud had come from, before he kneeled down and swept his hands around the source of the noise, his body just _wanting_, _needing_ to kill as he returned to Hermione.

"What is it?" asked the Sith Princess.

"A beetle," Harry replied, opening his hand and smiling coldly, "Or should I say…an Animagus?"

"What?" gasped Hermione, watching as Harry slipped the beetle into his pocket, his wandless magic ensuring that the creature couldn't change back or escape its stasis as the Sith Prince looked to his girlfriend, before he mouthed one word;

"_Skeeter._"

Now Hermione could understand the predatory instincts that had suddenly entered her boyfriend's consciousness; nodding with understanding, Hermione watched as Harry moved to the door of the bathroom and pushed it open, his smile staying on his face as he saw that his special package had arrived.

Ron Weasley was bound, gagged and actually looked slightly beaten up next to the entrance to the Chamber, Draco and Ginny standing next to his carcass, the youngest Weasley not even looking sorry for what had happened or was going to happen to her brother.

"Well done," Harry nodded, before he looked to Ginny as he asked, "Though your part in this surprises me Ginny: why would you seek to obey my commands?"

"I owe you my life," Ginny replied, "And I read what Skeeter wrote thanks to this shit-brained weasel's anonymous information: he wouldn't know the meaning of the word silence if it bit him on the ass."

{Perhaps you should tell her,} Hermione reasoned, watching as Harry kneeled down by the unconscious Weasley, {She'd keep your secret in payment for the life debt.}

{Maybe you're right Princess,} Harry remarked, {And I have a good idea as to how we stir the calmness.}

Rising from the side of the young betrayer, Harry turned and smiled at Ginny as he asked, "Ginny, what would you say if I told you that Skeeter's right about me? That I am using the Dark Arts to aid me in this Tournament?"

"I'd say I wouldn't blame you Harry," Ginny replied, "And that I would always stand at your side: even if it _was_ your influence that draws me to your side, I surrender myself to it."

"Then I should say this," Harry continued, "It's not my influence, but rather your friendship: you see friends where others see enemies; you have a strong will and a kind heart and, if my suspicions are correct, then tomorrow morning, you'll get a rather special delivery from your _dear_ Mother."

"Great," Ginny sighed, the sarcasm clear in her voice, "That's all I need: a Molly Howler."

"Perhaps," Harry grinned, "But just imagine what she'd do…or say if you told her that you wanted to continue being friends with Draco here; I mean, even once last night, or since he asked you, did he insult you?"

"No," Ginny replied, "The only way he insulted me was through the insults directed at that pile of shit at your feet: he didn't even try to insult me directly."

"And," Harry added, "What would you say if I told you something about you that Draco told me?"

"It would depend on what it is."

"He said," Harry smiled, "And I quote: '_At first, I thought it would be funny for the Gryffindors to see some of their members going with some of ours, but then I began to think and, in a weird, Twilight Zone kind of way, I guess that…I think she's…well, cute._' And after what I saw at the ball, I think it clear that a certain Slytherin would like it if you could stay friends…maybe more."

"What are you saying Harry?" asked Ginny, her eyes wide as to the revelation, her shock only increased when she noted that Draco wasn't denying a word of this.

"I'm saying," Harry answered, "That, in the spirit of pureblood etiquette, Draco should _probably_ consider offering you his hand and his heart; Ginny, I think you should become betrothed!"

"What?" asked Ginny, Draco smiling with a note of embarrassment in his voice as he shared his own exclamation to the point.

"I'm not kidding," Harry replied, before he walked over to Ginny and, leaning close, whispered in her ear, "Then I'll tell you everything you want to know about the new side to me…and it'll be easy because I highly doubt your parents would allow you to be betrothed to a Malfoy."

"They'd…disown me," Ginny gasped, "Shun me: Harry, how can you…"

"They can do that," Harry agreed, "And then I'd stick up for you: it's the least I can do Ginny: if you can trust anyone lately, then trust me. You know as well as I do that your Mother, in her own insane little mind, would sooner see you named Ginny Potter than anything else, but we both know that will never be. So, why not turn her greatest dream into her worst nightmare?"

"But who would accept me once they do that?" asked Ginny, her fear obvious to Harry, who actually wanted her to do this of her own accord.

"I would," Harry replied, "Like I said: we'd turn their greatest dream into their worst nightmare: I'd accept you Ginny: you'd become Ginny Potter, the betrothed to Draco Malfoy."

Ginny, hearing those words, waited a few seconds as Harry pulled back, before she broke down in fits of laughter, her eyes on Draco as she asked, "Would…would you want this? I know we've only been friends for a short while."

"Ginny," Draco smiled, looking to Harry with a sly smile, "I don't think that will be a problem: not if Harry's the one behind all this. Now, I think we'll leave you two with the ass here; I have a call to make and I think it only fair that I spend more time with my soon-to-be new betrothed."

Harry dismissed him with a nod, Draco and Ginny leaving the room as Harry then sealed the door and, with a whisper of Parseltongue, unlocked the Chamber, his eyes on the body at his feet.

"Can you hear me Weasley?" he asked, his voice like ice as he spoke, "I want you to know that it will only hurt a little at first; what happens next…more so."

Then, as Hermione watched, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron's body, his voice turning colder with each passing second as he whispered, "Enjoy: _Arachiaxus!_"

A black jet of magic flew from the end of Harry's wand, the beam suddenly appearing to scuttle over Ron's body as Harry stepped past him and descended into the Chamber, Hermione following suit moments later, her eyes wide as she'd watched the black magical spell turn into a horde of acromantulas that crawled over Ron's skin, leaving a thick webbing over his body. As she touched down in the Chamber, Hermione saw Harry's feral grin return as they heard a loud, terrified scream echo all throughout the school, the Sith Prince shaking his head as he looked to Hermione.

"I think he learned his lesson: come on Princess," holding out his arm, Harry led Hermione into the Chamber, his dark magic spiking all of a sudden as they approached the Complex.

"What did you do to him?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide with shock as to the pitch of the scream.

"It's called the Spider Swarm Jinx," Harry explained, "It summons a horde of spiders, or Acromantulas if the caster is strong enough, who then proceed to bind the victim in a cocoon of webbing. I think it only fair that Ron experiences the true power of fear before I make my official debut as the Son of the Dark Lord, don't you Princess?"

"I do Harry," Hermione replied, giving her boyfriend a soft kiss as she asked, "Wait: son of the Dark Lord? Then…does that mean…"

"Yes," Harry answered, "And I'm on my way there right now: see you soon."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

"That's brilliant news Harry," Voldemort exclaimed, watching as his son took a seat next to the weakened form of the Dark Lord, "I am so happy to hear that, but why are you here?"

"I am here, Father," Harry replied, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the beetle, "To have some fun…and to do what I promised; I'm sorry Dad, I can't wait. I want…I _need_ my family, hence my choice and the plans I have as of today."

There was a sigh, before the Dark Lord spoke up, "Very well my son: you chose to remain with me, so I shall grant you your request, but how will we keep my return a secret from the old man?"

"Easy," Harry replied, "We give him something else to worry about; something he won't be able to resist meddling in."

"Oh?" asked Voldemort, "And what would that be Harry?"

Looking to the beetle, Harry smiled coldly as he replied, "Me…dying."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Returning to Hogwarts, his plan set in motion, Harry made his way up towards Gryffindor Tower, his eyes filled with raw magic as he stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, his face hidden by his helmet, his armour now on full Sith-Lord form, a strange crown of spikes and gnarled appendages protruding from his shoulders, elbows and knees, his face hidden by his warped helmet, his body now looking like some kind of demon.

Turning to the portrait, Harry smiled as he hissed, "Go on then; _beg!_"

Before the portrait could question what he meant by that remark, Harry produced his hidden blade and proceeded to slash and hack at the image, the scream of the Fat Lady echoing throughout Hogwarts, drawing everyone to the scene, Harry turning to Dumbledore, his armoured head lifting as he spoke, "Ah, Dumbledore: how _lovely_ to see you!"

"Potter," snarled one of the Hufflepuffs, "What are you doing?"

"Potter?" asked Harry, "Are you referring to your Dark Champion? Oh, Albus; how foolish you truly are: for you see, Miss Skeeter was right: Potter was possessed…_by me_!"

"And," asked Dumbledore, "Who are you young sir?"

"Oh," Harry sighed, his eyes noticing the Slytherins appearing, "Don't tell me that you don't recognise me Dumbledore: after all, you destroyed my life, took my family from me and left me to rot in darkness."

Dumbledore's eyes widened, the students all seemed to shiver and Harry, looking to the Slytherins, saw their looks of fear; with a cold smile, he exclaimed, "I…am the son of the Dark Lord Voldemort and I am here to tell you all this: soon, your little Golden Boy, my little pawn, will die and my Father, the Dark Lord, will rise again. Until then, I want you all to know that I am in your debt; for you see, had it not been for Potter's near-broken state of mind and his losses, I would never have been able to turn him into my little slave. Now, his time is done and he is going to die and you, Albus Dumbledore, can rest knowing that you failed him: for now…goodbye!"

With that, Harry snapped his fingers and the students practically screamed as the darkness seemed to manifest around them, Harry vanishing from the spot where he had once stood.

While the students were all panicking, they were unaware of Draco looking to the Slytherins, before he whispered, "Find Hermione: tell her what we have just seen and get her to meet me. I'll be with Professor Snape in his office; now go."

The Slytherins obliged, leaving Draco to turn back, his eyes narrowed as he asked himself only one question;

'Harry, what the devil are you up to?'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

In another part of the country, in a dark manor, a now armour-less Harry Riddle closed his eyes and reached into the power of the Force, willing it to change his appearance and his very bodily make-up, his blood now rushing with the essence and lifeblood of the Riddle Family.

'Dumbledore,' he thought, 'You _tried_ to destroy me, but you only made me stronger. I hope your students are willing to feel fear, because when I come back, and I will, they will know it's cold grip.'

As he sat there, concentrating on the will of the Force, a dark voice spoke from within him, bringing Harry's demonised voice out from within his body;

"**Fear: Fear attracts the fearful; the strong; the weak; the innocent; fear is my ally! It burns in my soul; dwells within my heart; it has carved out my heart and sat in my soul. Fear has made me who I am!**"

A loud bell chimed overhead, making Harry look up, his eyes on full Sith colour – _think Anakin's eyes in Revenge of the Sith_ – as he swept his cloak around him, his features now changed into a true dark prince, a true heir to the power of the Force, a true Son of the Dark Lord.

Harry Potter, thanks to the Dark Prince's plans, was no more; now, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle had returned and this time, he was going to have his family, his friends and, in due course, his Princess all reunited once again.

May the Force help any that tried to stop him…

"It's time!"

**Episode 16 and Harry has revealed himself to Dumbledore, but what will happen and how can Harry Potter die if Harry Riddle lives?**

**Plus, with the loss of his key weapon, how can Dumbledore fulfil his manipulative nature?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The return of Lord Voldemort; the rescue of Bellatrix Lestrange; the death of Harry Potter and the true rise of Harry Riddle, son of the Dark Lord and Prince of the Sith; plus, back at Hogwarts, Hermione makes a plan to keep Dumbledore out of the loop – with a little help from another supposedly Light ex-Gryffindor and Ginny makes her choice regarding the future…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**NOTE: I changed the events of GOF because I didn't really want to go all the way; most of the stories I read ALWAYS happen in canon, so I changed that; oh, and for those who ask: when I said that this story will be similar to my other story – The Riddle Answered – I should point this out: in THIS story, Harry Riddle will be the One and Only, meaning Harry Potter IS staying dead!**

**OC SPELLS:**

**_Arachiaxus: _****The Spider Swarm Jinx_: Unleashes a swarm of spiders – or, with enough power Acromantulas – upon a victim and binds them in a cocoon of webbing; can last up to 30 minutes;_**


	17. Episode 17

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 16:**

**T4: Of course I have a plan to keep our little prince at Hogwarts and out of the way of Dumbledore; you're surprised at that? Also, over time, things will escalate to an almost 'FINAL BATTLE' point between Tom and Dumbledore;**

**Light Lord Cybergate: That WOULD be true except for one thing: Harry POTTER was entered in the Tournament, not Harry RIDDLE; and, in the last chapter, Harry used the Force to rid himself of EVERYTHING that was Harry Potter, including the so-called binding agreement;**

**Harryhermionealways: you have no idea how right you are; I also have a sound plan for the DMW and Ginny's relationship to Draco; rest assured, this may LOOK like the end, but it's only just begun…**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_Harry Potter, thanks to the Dark Prince's plans, was no more; now, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle had returned and this time, he was going to have his family, his friends and, in due course, his Princess all reunited once again._

_May the Force help any that tried to stop him…_

_"It's time!"_

Episode 17: Return Of The Riddles

The morning after Harry had shown his darker nature, word had spread all throughout Hogwarts courtesy of Professor Dumbledore and the four Hogwarts Houses: Harry Potter, the fourth Hogwarts Champion, had been admitted to St Mungo's with severe magical trauma and proof of the Cruciatus and high-level mind rape. Professor Dumbledore had begged and pleaded with the boy to hold on, but the healers had been the ones to give the man the bad news: Harry may not make it through 48 hours…the Boy-Who-Lived…was dead.

All across the four tables, the emotions and reactions to the news were different in strength and understanding, but all of them were united by the sense of mourning, none more so than Hermione, who was being held by Neville, the once girlfriend of the Dark Champion sobbing her heart out, her body shaking as she mourned the loss of her boyfriend.

Inside, however, Dark Lady Ventress, Sith Princess and future Lady of Darkness, was roaring with laughter: Harry, after his so-called revelation, had paid her a mental visit and told her to follow everything that was going to happen with a sense of determination and to never give up on him. Even as his true self, he would still love her and, according to Harry, even the Dark Lord had accepted her, despite the fact that she was a Muggleborn. So it was pretty self-explanatory as to why Hermione was laughing inside: her Harry, her Darth Giudizio, was such a genius that she could do nothing else but obey his commands and make him proud. Then, when they next met, she would keep him safe and ensure that his powers would remain at their peak, all the while, continuing to keep the alliance between Gryffindor and Slytherin together, their Dark Order's strength soon to be well-known in Hogwarts, especially when Harry told her of the final piece to his little plan.

He, Harry Riddle, the Dark Prince, Lord of the Sith, was coming to Hogwarts in the new school year and he was going to be the ace in the hole for his Father and his family.

So it was pretty understandable as to why Hermione was showing tears and shaking furiously: she was showing tears of dark amusement and her trembles were from the spikes in power that she could feel every now and again from her dark lover.

'Harry,' she thought, 'Come back to me soon, my dark love.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Azkaban:

To the normal witch or wizard, it looked like the real embodiment of the gates of hell;

To the condemned, damned and desperate, it was like they were moving towards the Green Mile, alias Death Row, in their lifetime;

However, to Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, now decked out in armour and bearing his black lightsabre at his side, it was the source of his dark rising and his power; it was the place where he would become known to the world as the Son of the Dark Lord; it was the place where Harry would cement his legacy as Lord of the Sith.

But most of all, it was the place where he would bear witness to the first step towards the reunion of his family and that was why he was there, on a storm-ridden, near blacked out night in February, his mental calendar telling him that the second task of the Triwizard Tournament was less than ten days away.

For days following his unofficial debut towards Dumbledore and the people of Hogwarts, Harry had been readjusting his body and his magic, mentally and magically slaughtering anything and everything within him that made him look, seem or even be proven to show that he was Harry Potter. Following that, Harry let go of all his restraints, lifted every block and barrier around his power that he had kept in place since September First, spoken with his Sith Princess on where they went from here, and planned the date for the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Harry had only asked one thing: that his Father leaves the date for the night after Harry had rescued Bellatrix Lestrange, his Mother, from the halls of Azkaban.

The Dark Lord, one Tom Marvolo Riddle, had been more than willing to accept those terms, watching with pride and a sense of completion as his son took charge of the operation, with help from reports through his Shadow Legion and insider intelligence gained from Lucius, whom Harry was going to keep in the dark as to his Father's return until the time was right.

'Yes,' thought Harry, using his domination over the darkness to stay hidden from the guards, both wizard and Dementor alike ignorant to his presence. 'I won't deny it: Uncle Lucius _did_ ensure that my Father and I met face-to-face, so he must know of the soon-to-be return of the Dark, but he doesn't need to know that we advanced our plans. And, with my little experiment being proven a success, I won't have to worry about Dumbledore sticking his big nose in things until it's too little, too late.'

Watching the images beyond his Shadow Realm, Harry emerged from the darkness opposite one of the deepest cells in Azkaban, the figures of Kilthane and Ferrox emerging behind him, the young Mandalorian almost shivering as he watched Harry. It had been him who had been the Dark Prince's eyes and ears within this prison and now it would be time for him to see whether or not his information and his tasks had been successful.

Stepping forwards, Harry lifted his right hand and swept it aside, the latch to the cell before him opening, a female gasp coming from within as Harry turned to his cohorts and commanded, "Wait here; ensure we are undisturbed."

"Yes Master," Ferrox replied, Harry noticing a pair of thin, sharp crescent-shaped swords being revealed by the younger Mandalorian, Kilthane revealing a dual-edged form of the blade as the two took their positions outside the cell. Striding forwards, Harry took a hold of the dark hilt to his lightsabre, his helmet hiding his face as he stepped into the cell, his hand moving to close the door behind him.

"So," a maniacal voice sang in front of him, "Visitors is it? I haven't had any real visitors since the Dementors graced me with their presence not an hour ago."

'So they won't be here any time soon,' Harry thought, 'Good: Ferrox's information said that the prisoners worked on a three-hour rota as to the visits received from those dark murderers. Ah well, if he's wrong, I'll just have to blast my way out.'

"Such a tall visitor," the voice sang, "Is he a pretty one? I bet he is."

"Bellatrix Riddle," Harry hissed, his voice distorted by his helmet, "Wife of the Dark Lord and Mother to the Dark Prince: imprisoned for believably being responsible for the torture-induced comas acquired by Frank and Alice Longbottom, as well as use of the Avada Kedavra Curse on Rodolphus Lestrange and being a proven member of the Inner Circle."

"Ooh," Bellatrix replied, her voice as musical and maniacal as Harry had heard, "Tall one has done his research, but he does not answer my question: is he a pretty one?"

"See for yourself," Harry replied, snapping his fingers, a ring of red flames enveloping both he and Bellatrix, Harry's blood rushing with anger as he lay his eyes on his Mother for the first time in a long time.

She was extremely thin and dirty, her black hair no longer bushy and wild, but matted and tangled like a web of thorns, her once proud dark eyes now filled only with the ghosts of her past and a haunting expression that would unnerve any normal witch or wizard.

Such a shame that Harry wasn't normal;

"Pretty one has power," Bella sang, "Great power, just like my Tom: he was strong, he was wise, he loved me and our baby; then Dumbledork took them from me and left me here."

"I know," Harry replied, his distorted voice now softer as he moved in front of Bellatrix, kneeling down to her eye level as he explained, "I know all about what happened, but I'm not here to hurt you Lady Riddle."

"Why is pretty one so sad?" asked Bella, her voice now the calm, albeit maniacally-tinged tone that Harry had longed to hear, "Does pretty one want Bella to comfort him? Does he want her to…soothe him?"

"Yes," Harry replied, before he lifted his hand to his helmet and removed it from his head, the metal and Force-tinged steel falling to the ground with a clang as Harry faced Bellatrix, his Sith eyes now on full display within a face of pale skin, the muscle tone of Harry's new appearance slightly more narrowed and stronger than that of Harry Potter. A head of wavy, sleek black hair fell around his head, his eyes themselves narrowed like a cat's, his lips as thin and bloodless as his Father.

Looking into her eyes, Harry asked, "Don't you recognise me…Mother?"

Bellatrix's ploy of being the maniacal, insane prison inmate fell like the Berlin Wall, her eyes wide as she turned to the wall behind her, Harry noticing a whole array of markings that appeared to be counting something. Looking back to him, her eyes seemed to brighten, her lip trembled and her voice seemed to break on its way to her mouth as she whispered, "H…H…Harry?"

"Uh-huh," Harry replied, a smile crossing his face as he lifted his lightsabre, igniting it with a hiss of energy, the black blade now being used to slice through Bella's chains, the Sith Lord rising from the ground as he told her, "I've come to set you free…Mother."

"Harry?" asked Bella again, rising from her position, her eyes rimmed with tears as she looked at him, "Y-you're alive?"

"Alive and kicking," Harry replied, "And here: he won't divide us again Mother, I won't let him."

"My little Basilisk," Bella whimpered, a smile of true love and respect crossing her face as she wrapped her arms around him, Harry inhaling a scent that seemed to make him think of lakes and the forest in winter, as well as the scent of years worth of torment at the hands of the Dementors and Azkaban herself. "My little snake," Bella gasped, holding onto Harry as if she was afraid that this was just another vision, "You look…so handsome, so strong, so…so…"

"So much like Dad," Harry told her, before he pulled back and drew his power inwards, his Sith eyes now being replaced by a pair of deep brown eyes that were like burned oak, "Except the eyes," he added, "I have my Mother's eyes."

"Yes you do," Bella replied, "But…how are you going to…"

"Just hold onto me Mother," Harry told her, giving three sharp whistles to the Mandalorians, the signal that his mission was a success and they could leave, "Father's waiting for us."

Then, when Bella went to ask what he meant by that, she gasped when Harry replaced his helmet and, holding tight to the woman who had given him life and whom he had missed sorely, Harry Veiled away from Azkaban, leaving only an abandoned cell and scorch marks from his sabre and his ring of fire.

A warning to all who would come across the cell in a couple of hours; you don't mess with the Dark Royals and think you will live…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

When Harry emerged from the shadows, now safely back in Riddle Manor, he dismissed the Mandalorians, shed his armour and fell into his Mother's arms, Bellatrix smiling fondly as she ran a hand through his black hair, holding him close to her as she whispered, "You've discovered our family's heritage then?"

"I am the Lord of the Dark Side," Harry replied, his voice almost like a purr as he felt his mother's hands upon his skin, "My name is Darth Giudizio: the Lord of Judgment and I am not going to turn away from this. Dumbledore and his lies took one family from me; now, I won't let him take you from me, Mother; I swear it!"

"But where is your Father?" asked Bellatrix.

"Preparing," Harry answered, "Tomorrow night, I will perform the ritual that will bring him back to us and then it's only a matter of time before I choose to reveal myself to the world at his side. The old fool already knows that I exist and now I am going to make him sweat, but, until then, there's just one thing I want."

"What is that son?" asked Bella, giving Harry a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"My parents," Harry answered, "My family: my Mum and Dad: please, please say I can have them."

"Of course you can," Bella smiled, before she lay Harry's head upon a pillow, his Veiling having taken them to his bedroom as she continued stroking his black hair, her voice calm as she whispered, "I'll never leave you alone again, my little snake; I promise."

As Harry allowed himself to be comforted by his Mother, Bellatrix began removing his shoes and moving his quilts out of the way, all the while, Harry heard a soft, melodious voice in his ear, a song that could almost be classed as a lullaby drifting him off to sleep…

_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around._

_Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around._

_Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,_

_I'll send 'em howling, I don't care, I got ways._

_No one's gonna hurt you, No one's gonna dare._

_Others can desert you, Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there._

_Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,_

_But in time...Nothing can harm you not while I'm around..._

_Not to worry, not to worry I may not be smart, but I'm not dumb._

_I can do it. Put me to it. Show me something - I can overcome._

_Not to worry, ma'am._

_Being close and being clever ain't like being true_

_I don't need to, I would never hide a thing from you,_

_Like some..._

_Nothin's gonna harm you. Not while I'm around.  
>Nothing's gonna harm you, darling Not while I'm around.<em>

_Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while, But in time..._

_Nothing can harm you not while I'm around..._

With her song finished, Bella looked up sadly, her eyes filled with tears as she saw her son, her little snake, curled up on his side, his eyes closed, one hand lazily toying with his black hair.

'My Harry,' she thought, 'Welcome home…and thank you.'

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Two weeks;

It had been two weeks since the Prophet had announced the final, official death of the Boy-Who-Lived and now things were seemingly back to normal in Hogwarts; with the Second Task approaching, things were changing in ways that no-one out there would see or believe. One such way was the fact that, despite the so-called source of their dark compulsions had been killed, the Gryffindor-Slytherin alliance had continued and, even more disturbing – for several Gryffindors at least – were the rumours that one of their own was supposedly to become the betrothed of one of the Slytherins.

On February 14th, Valentines Day, the rumours were proved true when, as he sat down that morning at the Slytherin Table, Draco found a letter, a parcel and himself all on the receiving end of a kiss from Ginny, several of the Gryffindors actually rivalling Slytherin's green shade as they fell sick. As he looked to the letter, Draco heard Ginny whisper, "I may need you today Drake, but, with Harry gone, I need to know: do you…do you really care for me?"

"I do," Draco replied, looking to her out of the corner of his eye, "Harry may be gone Ginny, but he introduced me to the difference in your family between you and those brothers of yours. I did say those things that he said I did and I would say them again a million times over and a million times again: I know it's slightly cheesy, given the date, but I will accept you as my betrothed if and when you're ready to do the same."

At that moment, a rather important-looking owl flew in through the window, Ginny's face paling as she saw the red envelope in its talons; over on the Gryffindor Table, Hermione excused herself from Neville's side and quickly moved to join the snakes, the Mandalorian Commander doing the same as Ginny shakily went to open the letter.

'This should be bad,' thought Hermione, before she quickly cast a silencing ward around them, so that only the Slytherin Order heard the screeches of Molly Weasley.

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY: HOW DARE YOU ANNOUNCE THAT YOU SEEK A BETROTHAL WITH…WITH _THEM_! I FORBID ANY DAUGHTER OF MINE TO LOWER HER STANDARDS BY ALLYING WITH A MALFOY, LET ALONE BY BEDDING ONE! THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE DISGRACE AND, IF YOU CONSIDER IT DONE, THEN I HEREBY DISOWN YOU! YOU ARE NO LONGER A DAUGHTER OF MINE AND, IF I SEE YOU AGAIN, I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL! WHY DID YOU NOT TRY AND SETTLE WITH HARRY BEFORE HIS DEATH? IF YOU HAD BEEN THERE AND NOT THAT MUDBLOOD BITCH, HARRY WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!"

"_Incendio!_" Draco commanded, silver flames now flying from his wand, incinerating the Howler as he turned to Ginny, his hand hiding the package that he had found, the letter not only from his parents, but, unknown to all others, from Harry.

"D…Draco," gasped Ginny, her eyes filling with tears as she asked, "W-What do I d-do?"

"You give me your answer," Draco replied, before he opened his hand and revealed a solid silver ring, a ruby dragon set into the crown of the ring, which he now offered to Ginny, ironically going down on one knee as he asked, "Ginny, would you do me the honour of calling you my betrothed?"

Ginny, shaking with a mix of fear, horror and shock, turned to Hermione, her eyes widening as she found the Sith Princess smiling, before she slowly nodded and mouthed, "Go on."

"Yes," Ginny replied, accepting the ring, which Draco slid onto her finger, "Yes Draco Malfoy, I will become your betrothed, but I have no dowry to give."

"Yes you do," Hermione explained, "Remember? Harry said, before he…before he died that he would accept you as a member of his family; all we need is an official statement from someone of his…_family_, wouldn't you say Draco?"

"Yes I would Hermione," Draco replied, watching as Ginny placed a kiss on her new betrothed's lips, "But who could…"

"What about Remus?" suggested Neville, Hermione smiling inside as she knew this was all going to plan: both she and Neville had discussed this and, given that Remus knew the truth about Harry, it would make perfect sense.

"Professor Lupin?" asked Ginny, "Why would he…"

"When Harry lost Sirius," Hermione replied, "Remus became his guardian; Gringotts were kind enough to reveal that when Harry visited them over the summer; no doubt that the dark wizard we all saw a while ago had Harry do that, but, if I know my Harry, then he will have thought ahead. So, if you wait, I'll contact Remus and we'll see what we can do."

"In the mean time," Draco added, lifting the letter, "My Father says he accepts you as his daughter-in-law and hopes only for my happiness, which, as long as I have you Ginny, I will always have."

"Thank you Draco," Ginny remarked, placing another kiss on Draco's lips as she looked to Hermione, "Contact him."

Hermione just nodded, before she turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, Neville at her side as he watched her make her way down to the Complex, her own dark side flowing freely as he asked, "What did he say?"

"He said," Hermione answered, "And I quote: as long as Harry needs me, I'll be there for everyone who sides with him. Send one of your men to speak with him Neville; I'll see about talking to Harry soon and then we'll see what he says about letting Ginny in on the secret."

"As you command, my Lady," Neville replied, moving to the Complex, his mind set on his mission.

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Valentines Night;

It was cheesy, ironic and almost perfect for the return of a loved one, but, at the same time, it would forever mean something else for the forces of the Dark and the Dark Prince; it would mean the anniversary of the resurrection of the Dark Lord, Harry's Father, Lord Voldemort.

With help from his Mother and the Mandalorian Elite Ferrox, who had sworn his allegiance in blood and oath to the dark for everything he had done to aid his Master, Harry watched as a large cauldron was set in the centre of the Riddle Manor ballroom, the cauldron already filled with a potion that bubbled and frothed wildly, Bellatrix entering from one room, carrying a bundle in her arms.

'Father,' thought Harry, watching as Ferrox entered from another room, bearing a second bundle that held the necessary instruments to perfect the ritual, the Sith Lord himself holding onto his Blood Blade as he prepared to offer his blood to his Father. 'Soon we will be a family again and then our plans to make Dumbledore meet his end can begin.'

Gesturing with his wand, Harry ignited the flames underneath the cauldron, Bellatrix looking to her son as she smiled and opened the bundle, Harry actually turning his head away as he heard the splash of potion on flesh, the voice of the Dark Lord addressing them, "It's time my son, my love: do it!"

Approaching the cauldron, Harry looked to Bellatrix, before he sighed and, wiping a tear from his eye, nodded once; Bellatrix, seeing the moment of strength in her son, smiled as she held out a long black wand, the runes along the side spelling out her full name as she exclaimed, "Essence of the beloved; offered to you to renew the bond that was lost to us; now let it become your lifeblood and magic!"

She then dropped the wand into the cauldron, causing an explosion of silver and green, Harry gasping as he felt a familiar prickling line his forehead, his lightning bolt scar no longer there, but the essence of its power was still active. Nodding to Ferrox, Harry watched as the Mandalorian Elite approached and revealed the severed hand of Wormtail, his voice speaking from beneath his helmet, "Flesh of the obedient; stricken from those who would turn their backs on you; relinquished upon you so that all who serve shall know of your might; now let its embrace regenerate your own!"

He dropped the hand into the potion, Harry watching as a powerful black smoke erupted from the cauldron, the Sith Lord holding his blade under his arm as he looked to the cauldron, his voice as strong as his will as he exclaimed, "Blood of the sire; willingly given to that who gave him life; now let that debt be repaid as you return to those whom call you family!"

With a powerful slash across his arm, Harry watched as a steady stream of red blood flowed into the cauldron, the Sith Lord waiting only five seconds before his Force Mastery healed his wound, the cauldron now being enveloped in a wave of black and silver flames that rose to the sky, a never-ending cyclone of rage and raw power that had Harry's eyes changing to those of the Sith Beast beneath his skin.

From within the flames, Harry watched as a seemingly impossible surge of magic linked him to his parents, before the flames seemed to die down, their dregs parting like the Red Sea, revealing a tall, lean, dark-haired man with pale skin, red eyes and dressed in a long black and silver robe, his face showing youth and his magic emanating through the three of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ferrox drop to his knees before the Sith Prince himself stepped forwards, Bella getting to the man first as she locked lips with him, the scene before him making Harry smile. When they were done, the man, Tom Riddle, looked to Harry as he extended an arm and waited.

Harry, forsaking everything that he was as the Sith Lord and Prince of Darkness, ran into his Father's arms, the three of them holding one another as the Sith Lord, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, heard a soft, sibilant voice within his mind.

{Thank you…my son.}

**Episode 17 and the Sith Lord has his family back; can he learn to let his somewhat more human side show itself now or will Harry lose himself to the darkness?**

**Also, what does Hermione mean by Remus' loyalty and how can they hide it from those who think the wolf a Light wizard?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Death Eaters are summoned before the Dark Lord and Harry has a point to prove to a certain Potions Master; also, the Tournament continues and Harry wonders whether or not his Father's plan to announce his return should go ahead; also, Hermione is summoned to Ragnok where a surprise awaits her and those close to Harry hear the Last Will of Harry James Potter…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**Note: Bella's song is taken from 'Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street' which has Helena Bonham Carter in it: it just felt right for the kind of thing someone like her would sing to her son;**

**Second Note: Harry WILL be returning to Hogwarts and there will be suspicions with his name, but like always, I DO have a plan;**


	18. Episode 18

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"**_Force Manipulation_**"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 17:**

**Zamia: well, it's kind of obvious that Hermione would be the main beneficiary, but remember that, at the end of the day, Harry isn't EXACTLY dead, so it will certainly throw a wrench in Dumbledore's plans;**

**Btvs22: I thought it fit perfectly, especially since this IS a Family-theme story; the return and the will are coming soon, so wait and see what's to come;**

**Skelo: You'd be surprised as to what any kind of leader – Light, Dark or otherwise – would have to face;**

**Harryhermionealways: he can be pissed off if he wants, but when Ginny is protected by Malfoy – and obviously Harry when he returns – do you think you'd cross them? Only someone stupid, brain dead and a clear dead man walking would…oh wait; that's Ron in a nutshell ;-)**

_Statement: Last Time…_

_Harry, forsaking everything that he was as the Sith Lord and Prince of Darkness, ran into his Father's arms, the three of them holding one another as the Sith Lord, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, heard a soft, sibilant voice within his mind._

_{Thank you…my son.}_

Episode 18: The Power Of The Dark

After the ritual, Harry had needed time, as well as a Blood Replenishing Potion, before he would be able to move among his Father's ranks; time that the Dark Lord was willing to give him as he escorted his son and heir back to his room, both he and Bellatrix remaining at Harry's side as he seemed to go into a trance that would restore his energy. As he watched his little snake's energy being restored to his body, the Dark Lord himself examined his new body, marvelling at the familiar feeling of raw magic and power that rushed through his own veins: like Harry, Tom could also feel the power of the Force, the Dark Side's strength being returned to its former glory within his veins, the mantle that was Lord Voldemort being reborn in that moment.

'Dumbledore,' he thought to himself, watching as a red glow enveloped Harry's body, the thrum and beat of the shining aura getting brighter as Harry poured more power into his trance, 'You are such a fool: you had no idea that my true purpose for taking the name of Death's Flight was to rebuild the forces lost to my ancestors. I hid in the dark, watching and waiting for the moment that is here: the moment where my son and heir, knighted as I once was, could stand at my side and bring about the Revenge of the Sith. And what a name,' he added, chuckling to himself as the red aura around his son seemed to reach it's zenith, sparks of dark lightning now dancing all over Harry's body. 'Darth Giudizio, the Lord of Judgment: a perfect name for one who seeks his own revenge on the forces of the Light.'

His thoughts were cut off when the glow around Harry suddenly faded, the eyes of the Sith Prince opening to reveal his burned oak colouring, the voice of the younger Riddle speaking with awe and pride as he whispered, "We did it: you're really here."

"I am here," Tom replied, sitting down next to his son as he placed a comforting arm around Harry's shoulders, "And so are you Harry; this time, as who you truly are: Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, Heir of the Dark and Prince of the Sith. Now, tell me, do you feel ready to meet with our people or do you need more time?"

"No," Harry replied, his eyes now flashing the feral, animalistic shade of yellow that people would associate with the Dark Side, "Summon them Father; bring them before their masters so that we can show them just what it is to abandon their cause. Besides," he flexed his fingers and Tom smiled as he saw a look of pure malice fill his son's eyes, "There will be those who doubt that your son and heir is as strong as you would say, so I think an example needs to be set against those who choose to doubt me."

"Ooh," sang Bellatrix, now running a soft, gentle hand through her son's hair, her own place on his other side as she looked from Harry to Tom, "Sounds like my little snake wants to play a game with his little friends."

"I'll play Mother," Harry replied, leaning his head on Bella's shoulder as she continued stroking his long black hair, "And they will lose!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Severus Snape had just finished his last lesson of the day – 4th year Gryffindors and Slytherins – when he suddenly doubled over in pain, a familiar burning running up his left arm, a strong pull being felt against his mind and magic.

'No,' thought Severus, 'It's impossible: it…can't…be; not now.'

His fears were groundless as he felt the burning getting stronger the longer that Severus chose to ignore the pain and the summons of the one who had given him the mark;

The Dark Lord…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

The sudden bouts of pain and doubt were being felt all over the country: members of wizarding society, mainly the male side of it, were clutching at their arms and suddenly making a hasty retreat, each one of them looking at the mark that was being burned into their flesh once again, the message sent by the burn as clear as day:

The Dark Lord had returned…and he was _pissed off_…

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Out of all of the followers of the Dark Side, better known as the Death Eaters that felt the burn, there were only two members of the circle that were prepared and willing to accept the call; in a secluded part of Knockturn Alley, two robed figures dressed in silver masks suddenly materialised next to one another, the taller of the two looking to the other.

"It's him," the taller one explained, his voice showing a familiar cold edge that held a tone of noble proportions, "He's back."

"Thank you Lucius," the other replied, "I am aware of what has happened, but my orders from the Dark Lord have not changed: shall we go?"

"Yes Crouch," Lucius Malfoy agreed, "Is the Dark Lord's present waiting for him?"

"Bound, gagged and with a broken mind," Crouch replied, "Now it is time for the true evil in this world to rise and, if what has happened really is true, then our Lord will not be alone."

"Yes," Lucius agreed, watching as Barty Crouch Junior, the mole and spy for the Dark Lord's plans over the year, vanished in a whirl of smoke, the taller Death Eater looking around warily as he added, "That's what I'm afraid of."

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

Lifting his wand from his Father's arm, Harry turned and examined the scene around them: they were standing in an open courtyard out the back of Riddle Manor, the courtyard seemingly blanketed in darkness that was lit only by a ring of green and red flames crafted by both the Dark Lord and Dark Prince. At his side, Harry looked to his Mandalorian followers, Ferrox seemingly the one who felt the most afraid of what was to happen; looking from his soldiers to his Father, Harry smiled coldly before he asked, "Should I make an entrance Father?"

"I see no reason why not," Tom agreed, "This is going to be fun anyway: let's show them that this is no lie: go with your warriors and wait for my call."

"Yes Father," inclining his head to the Dark Lord, though he knew that he didn't have to, Harry turned on his heel and walked away from the ring of flames, Sicarius, Ferrox and Kilthane at his side. Once they were at a safe enough distance, Harry turned to the elites and, addressing Kilthane, spoke in a commanding voice, "From here on out, everything you see and hear does not leave this night; Kilthane, Sicarius, I want the two of you to return to Hogwarts and inform Mandalore that our plans have been set in motion. If I am right, then by the time the Second Task comes into effect, my last wishes as the fraud that I was known as Harry Potter will be put into effect: guard and protect my Princess with your lives, do you hear me?"

"We hear and obey," the two Mandalorians replied, before they seemed to vanish into the shadows, leaving the young warrior Ferrox, who shook with fear as he looked from the spot where his superiors had stood to the true superior in his life.

"What of me Master?" he asked, "What are your wishes for your humble servant?"

"You," Harry replied, "You will be at my side when my Father summons me: now, even though he is my Father and they are my family, I know he expects me to present myself as the Prince that I am and show them an example of my power. For this reason, I'd like you to accept the pain and fury of the Dark Side and, when this is done, I will use all my power to heal you, do you understand me Ferrox?"

"As you command, my Master," Ferrox bowed, his voice showing the fear and doubt that he was feeling in regards to his commander's orders.

Turning back to the ceremony that was taking place, Harry smiled coldly and waited with baited breath, his magic somehow growing stronger with each passing second as he listened to the sounds outside. As he waited, Harry became aware of something slithering around his feet; looking down, the Sith Prince smiled under his helmet as he saw Nagini, Voldemort's snake, coiling around his legs and working her way upwards, her tongue flicking out at his armour as if to taste his scent.

/Do not worry Nagini,/ Harry assured her, speaking so low that only she heard him; if his Father did, then he didn't show it, /It's just me./

/Youngling!/ gasped the snake, /My young Master: you have returned to your true self!/

/Yes I have,/ Harry replied, /If you would like to stay with me, I could use the company./

Nagini seemed to oblige as she slithered up to his neckline, coiling herself around his shoulders; as she hung there, Harry's mind flashed to his own familiar Dracul; he only hoped that his sudden departure hadn't disturbed the magical serpent too much. After all, thanks to the bond that they shared, Hermione would be able to speak to the snake.

'In any case,' thought the Sith Prince, 'I think a few live mice and maybe a couple of sparrow chicks should seal the deal.'

Stroking Nagini's soft scales, Harry returned his attention to the sounds beyond his hiding place: there were occasional sounds like wailing and the icy feeling in the courtyard was becoming even colder, but, as Harry listened, he was still sure of his decision and of what was about to happen; around his neck, Nagini gave him a gentle puff on the chin as if to soothe the excited young wizard before Harry, remembering his Father's instructions, used his own wand to craft a new set of jet black robes as well as sliding his helmet over his face, the metallic segments of the mask sliding around his neck and completely obscuring his head and face from view. With that task done, Harry hid his wand in a holster attached to his wrist and, stroking Nagini, waited as the inevitable moment drew nearer.

The first thing he heard was his Father speaking to what Harry assumed were his gathered followers, the Death Eaters, "Welcome my friends; thirteen years it's been and yet here you stand before me as though it were only yesterday. I confess myself…disappointed: not one of you tried to find me: Crabbe, Dolohov, McNair, Goyle," there was a pause and several gasps of pain from the Death Eaters; Harry assumed that the Dark Lord must have ripped something from them, possibly their masks. As he listened, Tom's voice was close to silent as he spoke to one in particular, the name ringing a bell with Harry, "Not even you…Lucius!"

There was another gasp of pain before Harry heard a thud and a familiar voice spoke to Tom, "My lord, had I detected a sign or a whisper of your whereabouts…"

"There were signs everywhere, my slippery friend," Tom laughed, Harry wondering how much of this his Father was actually enjoying, a part of him actually dreading what would happen when the Dark Lord learned of Harry's encounters with the so-called loyal Death Eater, "And more than whispers."

"I assure you, my lord," Lucius replied, "I have never renounced the old ways; the face that I have been forced to present each day since your…absence; that is my true mask."

"Oh yes," Tom agreed, "You have done well in your pretence, but you failed to understand the one thing I required for my return Lucius: you, who used the classic excuse of being under the Imperious to escape your punishment, should have been more careful as to who you chose as your enemy. For you see," his voice had raised and Harry seemed to prepare himself, as if he knew this was the moment. "Your actions at the Quidditch World Cup impressed me greatly; and afterwards, when my plans were put into motion, relying on such helpers as Wormtail, who now rots in Azkaban, and young Barty Crouch Junior here – yes, I know you stand among us Bartemius and you have served me well. With their loyalties, I knew that the time would come for the inevitable encounter. You see, there is one more among us tonight; one who is the true reason for my return and, before I introduce him to you, I want all of you to kneel!"

There was a shuffling of robes and Harry, still eager to move from his location, listened as Tom spoke with an almost malicious tone, "You all chose to abandon me: I wish to say…thank you, because you are traitors; yes you are; as soon as you heard that Wormtail had returned, you jumped on the Dark Lord's bandwagon and started to, as Lucius clearly said, detect the signs and whispers of my whereabouts. So, this is your reward: you all bear my mark and you have all felt its pain; now, assembled before me, my Inner Circle, do you swear on the magic of your mark to never betray me again?"

"We swear, my lord," the group replied, Harry knowing the time was close.

"Do you all swear to obey my commands and pledge your loyalty to the true darkness?"

"We swear, my lord."

"And," added Tom, Harry knowing that it was close, "Do you all swear on your very lives that none of you shall ever ignore who and what you are from this day onwards? Do you swear to take your place as the rightful power in this world to aid me in stopping those like Dumbledore from taking my life again?"

"We swear my lord!"

'Got them,' Harry thought, a part of him feeling a sense of expectant glee that he didn't doubt to be coming from his Mother who, like him, was hiding in wait until the right moment; meanwhile, there was also fear and that made Harry strong, his mind recalling what he had said before his Father's resurrection: _Fear: Fear attracts the fearful; the strong; the weak; the innocent; fear is my ally! It burns in my soul; dwells within my heart; it has carved out my heart and sat in my soul. Fear has made me who I am!_

"And their fear makes me who I am," he whispered to no-one in particular, "I am the Prince of Darkness, their younger Lord and Master, their Judge, Jury and Executioner and now all of them shall learn of my power."

"Now," the voice of the Dark Lord continued, "As for what I said about that person to whom I owe my biggest thanks; they are standing within distance of you all, so please, my young friend, reveal yourself."

Stepping out from his hiding place, Harry stopped at the edge and, turning to where Ferrox was watching, Harry whispered, "Wait for the snap of my fingers before you emerge: make this look good and you shall earn your reward Ferrox."

The Mandalorian warrior bowed to his Master's reply as he watched Harry continue in towards the circle of Death Eaters, Harry trying as hard as he could to keep a straight face as he felt their fear, Lucius and Crouch easily identified to his mental scans, his fear-filled Uncle also showing a look of pride within his emotions as Harry stopped before the Dark Lord, Nagini now slithering over to her true Master. When the snake left his shoulders, Harry swept an arm over his head and kneeled before the Dark Lord, his dark persona coming out in full force as he hissed, "My Lord and Master, Voldemort; I am at your command."

"Ah," sighed the Dark Lord, Harry's laughter threatening to come out as he knew they had rehearsed everything they'd say, but the actions were Harry's alone to decide. "Loyalty: it is a most noble gesture indeed and you, my young friend, have an even bigger reason to show such loyalty, so, my little one, why not reveal that reason?"

"Of course," Harry replied, rising from his kneeled position before he finished, "Father."

The silence that filled the courtyard had Harry looking to the Death Eaters, their now unmasked appearances all showing fear and disbelief, the Sith Prince meeting the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, who he now saw to be smiling. This action wasn't missed by either Father or Son as Tom looked upon his right hand man as he asked, "Something amuses you Lucius?"

"Forgive my mask for falling my Lord," Lucius spoke up, "But as you know, I met with the young Prince over last summer and, though I fear the repercussions of my actions against him, I know that he is who he says he is."

"What the devil are you talking about Malfoy?" asked a thick voice, Harry recognising the executioner Macnair now on his feet, "Our Lord doesn't have a child, let alone one who would be so foolish as to act like a mere Mud-ack!"

His words were cut off as the executioner's hands suddenly went to his throat, the eyes of the Death Eaters now looking to Macnair in fear as Tom looked upon Harry, smiling coldly when he saw his son's hand raised, his claw-like gesture now closing as he used the Force to strangle Macnair.

"How…disappointing," Harry sighed; this _wasn't_ part of the plan, but it would serve its purpose, "I find your lack of hate and faith in my Father's words rather disturbing Macnair. And after all, this is not the first time that you and I have crossed paths; now I have my hands on you, or should that be, my magic!"

"Enough," Voldemort demanded, "Harry, release him at once!"

"As you wish Father," Harry replied, smiling when the use of his name had the fear factor for the Death Eaters going through the roof; releasing Macnair, Harry waited three seconds before he heard the next words of the Dark Lord.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The powerful light of the Killing Curse illuminated the courtyard, seemingly shimmering against the metallic edge of Harry's armour, the voice of the Dark Lord now addressing the Death Eaters once again. "You all swore to stand with the darkness and yet there was one of you who challenged my son and heir: truly, this is a disappointing turn of events. Now, my son, why don't you allow our…friends to look upon the face of their Young Master and then you may proceed with whatever you desire."

"Yes Father," Harry replied, removing the mask from his face, now revealing the pale, narrow-shaped face of the Dark Prince, his Sith-yellow eyes shining in the light of the fiery circle, his glare now cutting into each of the Death Eaters as he spoke. "Can anyone other than my dear Uncle Lucius there tell me the name that I was fooled to believe was my real name?"

Silence filled the graveyard, but, at the edge of the gathering, Harry felt a very familiar mind brushing against his own; shaking his head, Harry smiled coldly as he whispered, "I hoped that you'd be here Severus!"

"Severus?" asked Voldemort, watching as Harry lifted his hand and beckoned towards him; a ripple of magic seemed to fill the courtyard before Severus Snape, now de-masked and cowering before the Dark Lord, was literally pulled towards the two Dark Royals, Harry's smile growing ever more feral as he looked at the Potions Master.

"You know who I am," Harry hissed, "You heard my little hints when I challenged your authority and you offered me sanctuary from those who would choose to hurt me."

Looking into the eyes of the demon standing before him, Severus' lips quivered before a word came almost unbidden to his lips, "P-P-Potter?"

"10 points to Slytherin," drawled Harry, before he pushed away with the Force, sending Severus back into the gathering, his voice cutting through the area as he confirmed it. "Yes my friends, I was once known, foolishly believed, to be Harry James Potter, but, thanks to a change in events beyond my control, I discovered my true heritage and my true name: Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, son of Tom Marvolo Riddle and…oh," he suddenly looked around, Tom now smirking as he saw the look of confusion appear on Harry's face.

"What is it son?" asked Tom, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, the Death Eaters clearly still in shock as to the true identity of the Dark Lord's son; there were those in the crowd that suddenly feared for their lives.

"Someone's not at the party," Harry sighed, his voice coming out in a singsong tone that matched his Mother's perfectly, "One of our guests hasn't come to the party Father."

"Oh," asked a female voice, every one of the Death Eaters actually gasping in fear as the owner of the voice revealed herself, "Don't worry little snake: I won't leave you alone again."

"Bella," smiled Tom, "But how did you…"

"Our tall and pretty powerful little one," answered Bellatrix, moving next to her husband, the Death Eaters' combined fear now making Harry shudder with pleasure and ecstasy; it was like a drug and his favourite dessert combined: their fear…was…_delicious!_

"That's right," Harry smiled, "I, Harry Riddle, took Azkaban and rescued you Mother: now the Dark Circle is complete once again and, before we continue, there's someone here who would like to see you: Lucius, come forwards."

With fear in his stride, Lucius made his way forwards and kneeled once more before the Dark Family, Harry looking now to Bellatrix as he asked, "Mother, at any moment did you ask for our followers to treat me with disdain or even think of endangering my life?"

"Not unless it was part of your Father's plans," Bella replied, watching as Harry pulled his black lightsabre from under his cloak, the very appearance of the item making the Death Eaters tremble; there was darkness in the hand of their Prince; they knew that much.

"So then," Harry replied, his tone calm and yet filled with raw malice, "Would it be okay for a high-rank member of the Inner Circle to threaten me and say that I would meet the same sticky end as my parents?"

"What?" Bellatrix yelled, Lucius now prostrating before the trio as he waited for the inevitable, "Lucius, look me in the eye and tell me that my son isn't talking about _you!_ His own relatives threatening his life?"

"I…I…I cannot," Lucius replied, a part of him knowing that Harry was doing this as an act of revenge and a way to show them what he meant to his parents.

"Surely you knew that my son was still alive?" Bella asked, "You hold the only other copy of our Family Tree: if he had died, then his portrait would have warned you: what possessed you to…"

"Forgive me my Lady," Lucius whimpered, "I was angry with the Young Master: I did not recognise him through the lies of the Light; I spoke out of turn and I will accept the punishment deemed necessary for me."

"Did you ever hurt my son?" asked Tom, now sharing his wife's rage at his most loyal and trusted of followers, not to mention Harry's Uncle.

"No my Lord," Lucius replied, "I would sooner die than actually go to harm a hair on the head of the Young Master: he is my nephew and I have done all that I could to see him comfortable and protected by friends and followers."

"I have to admit it," Harry nodded, watching as Lucius met his eyes, "Lucius has done that much at least Mother; he had Draco at my side even though I was still a Gryffindor and he helped me have an alibi to my visit when I first met up with Father last summer; therefore, I think his punishment should be lenient."

"The affected party was you son," Tom remarked, "What do you think to be a reasonable punishment?"

"Draco," Harry replied, Lucius now meeting his Prince's gaze, the fear replaced by curiosity, "He is mine: I know that you would want him on your side Father, but, as of this moment, Draco Malfoy is my right-hand, my servant and my emotional vent for as long as I wish it. His life, his freedom and his very future are now in my hands: as for you Lucius…"

He cut himself off with a wave of his hand, Lucius now crying out in pain as bolts of red lightning flew from Harry's fingertips, the full fury of the Dark Side coursing through the Malfoy elder as Harry released the pain moments later, his voice like ice as he hissed, "Consider us even."

When Tom saw what Harry had done, he smiled once and looked back to the assembly, "My son shows a side of darkness that you will be thankful to see," he explained to the group, "And soon, when the time is right, my son will take his place at the head of his own Dark Forces. For now, all of you recognise and obey his every command; if even one of you dares to harm a hair on his head, I will not blink an eyelid when he kills you!"

"Yes my Lord," the Death Eaters replied, Harry now looking to the side where Tom and Bella followed his gaze, the Dark Lord smiling as he nodded once, as if indicating for Harry to continue.

Recognising the allowance, Harry spoke up, "While I am the one responsible for bringing the necessary materials together for reuniting the Dark Royals that stand before you, there is one more who has been the key to all of my plans; one who has served me even more faithfully than any of you would serve my Father. Allow me to introduce the first of my true dark forces, a warrior of the Shadows and a faithful ally and servant who now, with all tasks at hand being completed, can reap the rewards of loyalty."

The snap of Harry's fingers seemed to startle the Death Eaters, but that was nothing to what they felt and saw when Ferrox, now dressed in black Mandalorian Armour with a blood-red Mandalorian Clan symbol upon his helmet, emerged from the darkness, the young warrior kneeling before Harry as he spoke up, "Master."

"This," Harry explained, "Is Ferrox, a warrior who has risen to the standards far above even that of Lucius to my Father: Ferrox, before those assembled, I ask you, do you swear your life and allegiance to the Dark?"

"Yes Master," Ferrox replied, his body trying its hardest not to show the trembles of fear.

"Then," Harry seemed to turn away, his voice cutting through the assembly as he addressed the Mandalorian, "As your Master, I order you: remove your helmet and expose your flesh to my power."

Ferrox seemed to hesitate for a moment, before his pledge of loyalty took over his basic human instinct; lifting his hands to his own helmet, the young warrior removed the black metallic covering around his head and, placing it on the floor, bowed his head once more. Harry, turning back to Ferrox, seemed almost impressed: beneath the helmet was a young teen, no older than 16 or 17, with short cropped blonde hair and cold jade-green eyes, one of his eyes holding a scar over the top and bottom that, when the eye closed, formed a scar that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"It's nice to finally meet you in the flesh, my loyal warrior," Harry hissed, his voice cutting through to Ferrox's instincts as the warrior bowed his head, exposing the flesh of his throat to Harry. "You," Harry continued, "Who challenged me, spoke out of turn and yet redeemed yourself in the eyes of the Dark; you, who were my eyes and ears and the necessary piece of the puzzle that led me to Azkaban; now, Ferrox, reap your rewards!"

Before anyone could make any inquiries as to the purpose of this young man's presence, Ferrox's screams became truly feral and filled with pain and desperation as bolts of red lightning struck every piece of his body, a mysterious darkness also moving from the Dark Prince and wrapping around the head of the Mandalorian Warrior.

"You were weak when I met you," Harry growled, his face twisted into an icy grin, "Incompetent and a true meaning to the word coward; now, through your alliance, I take those faults from you with this, the storm of my darkness! Allow only your hatred to become your strength, your rage and malice for those who betray your Master to become your power; leave behind the weak mortal and embrace the Dark and all its power!"

The bolts of lightning receded and Harry stepped forwards, his lightsabre now igniting, showing a wave of dark energy that was new to the Death Eaters, but also showing just how much Harry had changed. Placing the tip of the blade against Ferrox's neckline, Harry gave the Mandalorian warrior the reward he had spoken of:

"Arise, my apprentice!"

**_EyeOfTheStorm_**

As Harry was giving Ferrox his reward, back at Hogwarts, within the confines of the Ebon Hawk Complex, Kilthane, Sicarius and Neville all suddenly shivered, Hermione gasping as she felt the ties of power that bound her and Harry together growing stronger. Looking to her warriors, the Sith Lady Ventress asked, "What could this mean?"

"It must be Ferrox, my Lady," Kilthane explained, "He has been proving himself worthy to our Master and, more than any of us, he has shown that he has learned the lesson that Lord Giudizio sought to teach us when we first gathered here."

"And," Hermione agreed, "In the eyes of the Sith Lord that he is, there is only one reward worthy for someone as loyal as Ferrox."

"Yes," agreed Neville, "Knighthood: Harry, Lord Giudizio, has chosen his apprentice!"

Sharing a glance with Neville, Hermione seemed to understand what Harry had done: it was true that Ferrox had shown loyalty above and beyond the call of duty and this, through that loyalty, was indeed a just reward.

'But that doesn't mean I still don't miss him,' she thought to herself, 'Harry, please come back to me.'

At that moment, Hermione's thoughts were cut off when a loud screech echoed through the Complex; looking to the entrance, Hermione, Neville and the Elites caught sight of a familiar white snowy owl flying towards the Sith Princess. Landing on Hermione's shoulder, Hedwig nipped at her ear before she held out her talons, a parchment from Gringotts being held in her grasp.

Opening the parchment, Hermione gasped when she read the enclosed information:

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_You have been named as a candidate in the Last Will of Harry James Potter and are required to attend a meeting on February 24th at 12pm_

_It would be in your best interests to attend;_

_May your swords stay sharp_

_Ragnok Silverbane_

'A will?' thought Hermione, 'I didn't realise just how far my Harry had thought, but, if he's named me as a recipient, then so be it.'

"Neville," she spoke out loud, "It looks like we'll be missing the Second Task!"

**Episode 18 and it seems that the true adventure has just begun; Harry has a new apprentice – as decided by the poll on my profile – and a new chance to have the life he'd lost as Harry Potter, but what will happen when Harry RIDDLE meets with the ones he knew as Harry POTTER?**

**Also, what has Harry Potter left to Hermione and who else is involved?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Hermione is summoned to Ragnok where a surprise awaits her and those close to Harry hear the Last Will of Harry James Potter; Ginny learns the full story when she becomes Draco's betrothed and the Dark Force meet with the new Harry after nearly a month of being dispersed: will loyalty remain or will alliances be tested?**

**Please Read and Review…**


	19. Episode 19

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 18:**

**Harryhermionealways: the fun is only just beginning for Harry and Hermione and, rest assured, Ron is going to learn to keep his mouth shut; after all, as far as he knows, Harry's dead…so, if he sees Hermione with another boy, what will come first: his brain or his mouth?**

**SimFlyer: I'd love to know why that is, but thanks for the review nonetheless;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Sorry for the long wait with this one;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

'_A will?' thought Hermione, 'I didn't realise just how far my Harry had thought, but, if he's named me as a recipient, then so be it.'_

"_Neville," she spoke out loud, "It looks like we'll be missing the Second Task!"_

Episode 19: An Unbroken Will

Ferrox stared in shock, his helmet removed, his eyes on his Young Master as Harry seated himself within the confines of Riddle Manor, his own helmet abandoned, his dark-brown eyes reading through one of the many books that was held within the library.

Knighthood!

His Master's reward for Ferrox's failings and redemption had been knighthood!

How long had he been planning this?

Was it why the dark Lord of the Sith had ignored everything that Ferrox had seen and done as of late and instead focused on the darkness inside him and the reunion of his family?

Was it all part of his Lord's plan to take the Mandalorian warrior for his apprentice?

And, if so, though the young warrior didn't really feel he was worthy yet, then the question was…why?

"You're questioning me."

Ferrox suddenly gasped as he looked over to his Master – and he now knew he could call him that for it was who he was – the eyes of the Sith Prince watching the Mandalorian with malice and confusion. The book that was open in his lap seemed undisturbed, so it was clear that he had just looked up to confirm his suspicions.

Bowing his head, Ferrox spoke with the familiar sense of loyalty, "I do not mean to, my Master, but I am curious as to how and why you chose me as your apprentice? Would Mandalore or the young Malfoy not have made a more logical choice?"

"While that is true," Harry replied, rising from his seat as he moved towards the Mandalorian, "When I return, I would need to make sure that my familiarity with Mandalore, Draco and even my dear Hermione is not as close so that people would suspect something between us." As he spoke, he looked over to the clock that hung in the centre of the library, his face twisting into a smile as he added, "Tomorrow, the last actions of Harry Potter, liar and pretender that he was, will be made known to the world and, while I have no real wish to upset my Ventress anymore than she is now, what I reveal tomorrow will change everything. I chose you," he then explained, looking back to Ferrox, "Because your loyalty has always been getting stronger since I first met you; you were the only Mandalorian Elite to address me as Master and continue to do so, despite the fact that I warned you of performing actions that displease me. You assisted in the vindication of my Mother and the resurrection of my Father; you kept my skills and training at levels that even Lord Revan would have been intimidated by and, most importantly of all, Ferrox, you made sure that everything you did for me was to my exact orders. When you consider a loyalty to your Master that is as strong as that one, who else would _you_ choose as your apprentice?"

Ferrox bowed his head to his Master, his own jade-green eyes now dim and as dark as the night as he explained, "I would choose he who serves me to his own death, my Master. I am honoured that you selected me to be your apprentice in the ways of the Sith: I will serve and obey your every command knowing that my failings could result in my death. Tell me, what is thy bidding, my Master?"

"Tomorrow," Harry explained, "I will be attending my own will reading and Ragnok has seen to it that only those invited will be there; that means that my Dark Knights, Fred and George Weasley, will be there: also, my Sith Princess Ventress will be in attendance as well as the ex-Professor Remus Lupin and, if my plans have worked, Mandalore. While I wait for the right moment to reveal myself, I want you to return to Hogwarts and keep a close eye on the Slytherins for me; in particular, you will watch my newest soldier, one Draco Malfoy and, when the time is right, you will report back to me; do you understand the task at hand, my young apprentice?"

"It will be completed as you command, my Master," Ferrox replied, before Harry smirked, his eyes momentarily turning gold as he walked past Ferrox and out into the main confines of Riddle Manor…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Hermione was nervous;

More than that, she was feeling slightly scared;

While the Second Task was in effect, she had left the Chamber and gained an alibi from Severus Snape saying that she would be resting up from a case of sickness, which allowed her to leave the school without arousing suspicion, the preset Portkey in her letter activating at five-minutes-to-twelve, her destination taking her directly to Gringotts.

Moving inside, Hermione made her way forwards, stopping before a goblin teller, before she cleared her throat and, keeping to her Ventress persona, she exclaimed, "Greetings Master Goblin; may the blood of your enemies flow like the rivers and oceans of the world."

"And may your fortunes be as strong within your wars as they are with your life Mistress," answered the goblin, inclining his head as he asked, "How may I be of assistance?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," she answered, "And I am here for the will reading of Harry James Potter with Lord Ragnok."

"Of course my lady," the goblin bowed, gesturing to the side as he explained, "Meeting room 3 is where you need to be; may your swords stay sharp, Mistress."

"And yours," Hermione returned, before she walked down the corridor towards the meeting room, her mind suddenly buzzing, her Force Sense reacting to a nearby presence; a familiar, warm, embracing presence that had her shivering.

'Don't react,' she told herself, 'You suspected he'd be here; make him proud; make him see you still care for him.'

Opening the door to the meeting room, Hermione placed her fist against her breast and bowed to Ragnok, who returned the gesture before Hermione looked around the room: as she had suspected, Remus was here and he looked like death warmed over. Though Harry had told Hermione that Remus knew the truth, he still had what it took to play the part; other than him were Fred and George Weasley and Neville Longbottom, the latter inclining his head to Hermione as Ragnok cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming today; first, allow me to offer my own sincerest…"

"Ragnok," Hermione spoke up, now looking to her companions with eyes of scorn, "It's okay: we all know the truth about him; Vader, Sion, are you still…"

"Our swords and services are his Lady Ventress," Fred and George chorused, Remus suddenly looking surprised at the revelation.

"Then," Hermione continued, "I think we can just skip the condolences; Harry _Potter_ is dead, but Harry _Riddle_ is alive and well."

"Yes he is," a cold voice agreed, all the current members of the Order gasping as Harry revealed himself, dressed head-to-foot in his armour, his eyes on Hermione as he added, "And he's standing right here."

"Harry," Remus whispered, "Why…why didn't you…"

"Why didn't I tell you that I knew the truth?" asked Harry, earning a nod of agreement from Remus; shrugging ruefully, he explained, "I didn't want Dumbledore becoming suspicious: I didn't mean to keep my secrets from you Moony, but, if he'd learned that I was who I really was, then anything could have happened."

"And now here you are," Remus sighed, before he stood up and, walking over to Harry, looked deep into the darkness of the helmet worn by the Sith Prince as he added, "Can I at least look upon the eyes of the young man that I call my cub?"

"Only if you answer me truthfully," Harry replied, now meeting the eyes of his former Defence Professor, "And don't lie to me: I'll know if you do: are you still on the side that the other Marauders and my godparents were?"

"I am," Remus replied, his voice calm and monotone as he spoke, "I will serve you and your family until the day that my death comes to me: if you ever need to talk outside your home, I'll listen to you: I swear it."

"Then," Harry smiled, reaching up to his helmet and removing it with a flourish, exposing the new appearance of the Riddle Heir, his eyes now the burned-oak shade that seemed to be a mix of Tom's red eyes and Bella's dark brown eyes, "Here I am Remus; Ragnok, if you would?"

"Of course my Lord," Ragnok replied, though Harry now kept his eyes on Hermione, who seemed to be stuck between taking him in her arms and keeping up the façade. Ragnok, meanwhile, unfurled a long scroll and, clearing his throat, spoke with a voice of strength, "Here is the last will and testament of Harry James Potter:

_I, Harry James Potter, being of sound mind and body, do hereby leave the following inheritances to the following candidates;_

_First and foremost, to my lovely girlfriend, eternal life-mate and lovely Princess to the Prince that I was, Hermione Granger; I leave everything that I inherited from our Sith ancestors; the fortunes and resources of Lord Revan and Lady Bastila are now yours; this includes Revanchist Isle, Malachor Castle and the Complex containing the Ebon Hawk; furthermore, I give you back your heart and love to give to whomever you choose. Don't be afraid to love again my Princess, because I will always love you…in this world and the next. I also leave you with one-third of the Black Fortune and the fortunes of my family; have a nice life Hermione; may the Force be with you._

_Next, to Remus Lupin, I leave an admission: I know who I am Remus and I HATE it _– Hermione and Remus then noticed a smile crossing the face of the Sith Prince; clearly he had written this as the Harry that the Light would want – _I don't accept it and never will; therefore, I leave you with another third of the Black Family fortunes and the contents of the Potter Family Vault; consider them as gifts and apologies from James and I;_

_To Neville Longbottom, I leave you with the final third of the Black Family fortunes and the knowledge that I always wanted to be your friend; I'm sorry that I couldn't stop people putting you down, but I can only hope that you…and Daphne…have a nice life and look after Hermione;_

_Finally, to Gred and Forge Weasley, I leave you with 500,000 Galleons, the Marauder's Map and, as the Last Potter, I also leave you my dad's cloak; I'm sorry that we couldn't fulfil our agreement, but whoever you choose to follow now that I am gone, I want you both to know that I thought of you as the brothers I always wanted;_

_In closing, I don't want any of you to blame yourselves for my death; the power of the dark took advantage of my loss of Sirius and corrupted me; I didn't mean to hurt anyone; I love you all, as friends, family and more;_

_May the Force be with you;_

_Harry James Potter_

With the completion of the will, Harry sniffed once, wiped a tear from under his own eye and, with a soft smile, told them, "Simple and to the point; now that's a will."

"But you're…" Neville began, Remus watching the twins warily; they'd suddenly developed looks of shock and mixed reactions from what they had received.

"Alive?" asked Harry, "Maybe, but at least now, there's no need for suspicions: you see Neville, what you don't know is I still possess the heritage that was spoken of when I opened the complex and I am the Heir of the Riddle, Slytherin and Lestrange fortunes; plus, on top of that, I made sure that while the Black fortunes will go to you, Remus and Hermione, a side account was set up that no-one but I could access. Anything of importance went to that account and, as far as the world will be aware, it is a case of corruptive finances courtesy of my quote-unquote _manipulator._"

"So," Remus spoke up, "What is it that you want Harry?"

"The same thing you want me to have," Harry explained, "Your allegiance and our band back together; that's why I called on you personally: Hermione," he then looked to her, before he crossed the room and held her hand in his, "I will still be yours if you still want me, but we'll have to work on a little backstory for it. I'm sorry that you were hurt the most by this, but…"

"Sshhh," Hermione whispered, placing her other hand over Harry's mouth, before she looked past him and added, "Ragnok, see to it that Revan's fortunes and estates are now put under the authority of Ventress and Giudizio."

"Yes Lady Ventress," Ragnok bowed, the others now watching as Hermione looked back to Harry, her face smiling as she held her hand over his lips.

"As for you," she added, "Shut up and kiss me you dark genius!"

Harry was more than willing to oblige…

**A shorter Chapter 19, but one that does the job; Harry now knows that Remus is still on his side and Hermione has the embrace of her dark lover back; now, can they keep the secret safe and can Harry have the normal life he wished for so long?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Ginny learns the full story when she becomes Draco's betrothed; the Ice Prince of Slytherin meets his new Master; Hermione meets their new apprentice and Harry enjoys a fun summer with his family and friends, but, with 5th year Hogwarts on the horizon, what challenges await the Sith Order?**

**Please Read and Review…**


	20. Episode 20

Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

Harry/Hermione;

Draco/Ginny;

Neville/Daphne

Revan/Bastila;

Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 19:**

**Harryhermionealways: Then I hope you enjoy what happens in this chapter;**

**YF54: I'd only hope so as well YF, but then again, I KNOW what she'll do because I write it;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Here is the next instalment and, from now on, there will be longer chapters;**

_Statement: Last Time…_

"_As for you," she added, "Shut up and kiss me you dark genius!"_

_Harry was more than willing to oblige…_

Episode 20: Into the Darkness

While Hermione and the team continued their life at Hogwarts, the time until the end of the year seemingly dragging on and on for Harry, the Sith Prince and Heir of Darkness spent his days training and dealing with business through the Death Eaters and spending time with his family. At least once a week, Harry would Veil straight to the Chamber where he would be able to hold Hermione all through the night, his Sith Princess still finding it easy to allow herself to be held by the demon that was her lover.

Over time, the darkness that they shared began to grow once more, Harry helped by his parents and the Death Eater meetings while Hermione was helped by Neville, the Mandalorians and the Slytherins, all of whom still welcomed her as the bride and princess to their Young Master. Draco was a big help for Hermione, especially when he learned of how his own cousin had saved him from the Dark Mark because of his Father's actions when they were younger and, over time, the young Malfoy no longer saw a Mudblood or Know-It-All, but a friend and ally and his Young Mistress, both of them also agreeing that it was time to bring Ginny into the mix.

Because she was apparently named as Harry's heiress, Hermione was able to adopt Ginny into the Potter lineage, the young red-head thanking her endlessly as she soon joined the Slytherins in their dorm and in their meals, the only real problem around Hogwarts being Ginny's now ex-brother, better known as the Dead Man Walking.

As the Third Task, a large maze with the Triwizard Cup at the centre, began to come around, Hermione saw more and more of Harry, the Sith Prince agreeing with her and Draco's suggestion that it was time to bring Ginny into the Dark Order, but, on the night of the task, with Harry in her arms, Hermione heard Harry's plan as clear as day.

"Before we deal with my soon-to-be sister-in-arms, I think we need to deal with the Dead Man Walking once and for all."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

The task was simple and complicated at the same time;

For Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, it was about which school would emerge as Champion of Champions;

However, unbeknownst to everyone, both students and staff alike, there was one member of a certain House that was not joining in the festivities; Ron Weasley had received a detention from Professor Snape for ruining yet another potion and insulting his former sister. For his detention, he was to scrub out all of the cauldrons by hand and miss the Third Task, two things that had the self-indulged asshole thinking how unfair his life had been to him and how he would get his revenge on the one that he continued to refer to as Ginny No-Name.

As he went down on his knees and proceeded to scrub another cauldron, a part of him wondering how the slimy snakes would get cauldrons so dirty, there was a sudden sound in his ears, like the rustling of wings and, before he could move, Ron gasped as the torches in the classroom went out, a loud click indicating that the door had been locked.

Now, any sane, clear-minded wizard would have gone for their wand and cast a Lumos to investigate the darkness; however, Ron Weasley was neither sane or had any mind to clear, so he did what he was good at: he used his big mouth.

"So that's your game is it?" he asked the darkness, "Some slimy snake trick and think you can get one up on me?"

"I don't think," a cold, yet familiar voice replied, "I know: I know all your weaknesses Ron, I know all your faults and I know that it was _you_ who killed him…killed Sirius."

"No," gasped Ron, unaware of a cloud of his own breath now filling the air, "It…it can't be; y-y-you're dead."

"Yes," the voice hissed, before Ron felt like his throat was being wrapped up by a thousand ropes, "But the dead don't stay dead: with magic, anything is possible."

"P…P…Harry?" asked Ron, looking all around, "I…I…I didn't…"

There was a sound like the rush of air and, when Ron looked, he gasped in horror: standing before him, illuminated by a strange blade of red light was the visage of his old friend, but, at the same time, it wasn't Harry.

His face was different; it looked like the skin had been cracked and someone had taken a Beater's bat to it before being put back together by a four-year old child. Where the skin was exposed, Ron cried out as spiders twisted their way through the skin; one of the spiders made the mistake of entering a spot next to the mouth, where it was crunched up and spat out, the cold, dead eyes of Harry James Potter now looking to Ron.

"Why Ron?" he asked, "Why did you do it?"

"I…I don't," Ron gasped, before he seemed to meet the cold, emerald-eyed gaze of his friend and, as he looked into them, a memory that he couldn't explain came back to him:

He saw himself standing on the bank of the lake, a thousand Dementors swarming around Harry and Sirius, a second hidden form watching with defeat as he found himself unarmed, the reason for that being the wand in Ron's hand. He saw a thought of a load of money and respect and then a large terrier ran through the Dementors, the second Harry falling to his knees as he realised that it was too late; that Sirius was dead.

"Harry," Ron pleaded, "I…I was always your friend; I always defended you; I wouldn't kill."

"But you did," Harry told him, a scabbed hand now reaching out to Ron, the Weasley boy screaming as images of his worst nightmares filled his head, his sanity only held in place by whatever power was on display here. "You killed Sirius and led me to my death; you attacked Hermione and made sure that I believed your lies; but," he then lifted a hand and seemed to change his tune, "That's the good thing about being dead; you don't have to worry."

"A-A-About w-w-w-what?" stammered Ron, now watching as a spider from Harry's corpse began to crawl over his skin; he wanted to scream, but something was stopping him.

"About what's to come," Harry told him, "Because I know you Ron: I have seen your heart's desire, I have seen your dreams; I have taken your soul and made it mine and that is why you shall never be at peace."

Ron, seeing the spider, gave a hollow laugh as he looked up to the corpse, his eyes now filled with the familiar DMW act of arrogance, "Is…is that it then? I mean, is the point of this to make me feel guilty? Because I can tell you now; it won't work: face facts Potter, you are weak; you always were weak and I'm glad you're dead, because you have left me with a real prize. All it takes is one little potion and Hermione will be my slave and do anything I want her to…_anything._ You see, because here's the thing that they never tell you: to kill someone, even unintentionally, and get away with it; you're bulletproof, you're a God."

Harry gave a half-hearted scoff, the red blade of magic now illuminating his emerald eyes as they appeared to black out, "You're no God Weasley; just a little boy doing what Master wants you to do. But, for now, there's a question you haven't asked yourself yet: if I, the Boy-Who-Lived, am able to come back and haunt you; if I exist, what else does? You think you're the Big Bad Wolf; you need to remember about Remus on a full moon; you think you're a cold-blooded killer? Well, I hate to break it to you, but I managed to kill someone when I was just one-year old and it gets worse, because a _real_ killer is coming back."

"W-what do you mean?" asked Ron, his voice trembling as he looked to Harry, the darkness seemingly rising within him.

"Don't you get it yet?" laughed Harry, "I'm just the tip of the iceberg; I'm Good Cop; look at you: so pleased with your grubby little murder and how you took the one I cared for the most from me. You may as well be pleased, because you helped do what others couldn't: you helped kill me; but the fact is that when it comes to pure, naked evil: you're an amateur and I want you to know that you've wandered off the path. This is where the wild things are and we've got your scent now."

He seemed to pause before lifting his decaying hand once again, the spiders that had crawled over his skin now moving in their hundreds towards Ron, the loud-mouthed Dead Man Walking growing paler with every second.

"We can find you," Harry continued, his voice growing icy as he spoke, "At the edges of the earth and create unimaginable torment for you; and now," he appeared to step right over the spiders, Ron's fear turning into a level between bed-wetting and near-death-experience as the demon, the _real_ Dead Man Walking stood before him. "I'm going to tell you the very worst thing in the world: something only the dead know."

As he leaned forwards, Harry's eyes went from blacked out to sith gold, the power of the Force moving through him as he hissed, "_**Voldemort is back and you're going to tell them!**_"

Ron's eyes glazed over before he gasped out, "That's not true."

"Oh no?" asked Harry, "I was there; I saw it: my advice to you is to find a nice safe place with locks and bad dogs…and _never ever turn out the light._ I'll be waiting for you…_murderer_."

As the last word hissed in Ron's ear, the lights darkened once more and, when the torches flared into life once again, Harry was gone, but Ron's mind was focused on one thing only…

The darkness that had invaded his mind…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Out in the maze, Cedric, Viktor and Fleur were racing towards the Cup, each of them trying their best to outdo the other, but all the while unaware of the dangers that lay ahead.

As Fleur rounded a corner, the last thing she saw was a flash of green light…

As Viktor came close to the cup, he suddenly found himself unable to breathe, the loss of air and pressure on his throat strangling him to death where he stood…

Cedric, meanwhile, managed to reach the cup, but not before he felt a strong pull against his navel and, when he stopped spinning, he too came face to face with death itself.

"H-Harry?" he asked, gasping from the Portkey that had dragged him to wherever he was.

"Hello Diggory," Harry smiled, his voice cutting into the boy as he added, "And…goodbye."

All Cedric Diggory ever saw was a flash of black and gold before his body found itself without the accompanying presence of his head.

As the body fell to the floor, Harry smiled and summoned his Father's specially-made Portkey, but not before inscribing a little message into the body, before he sent Cedric and the cup back to Hogwarts.

All he wished at that moment was that he had some popcorn so that he could really sit back and enjoy the show…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Chaos;

That was the order of the day for Hogwarts when the three now dead contestants revealed themselves;

Half of Beauxbatons screamed when they saw their fellow classmate just lying there, staring with eyes of a glassy nature, her face set in a look of permanent fright, a strange tattoo inscribed on her forehead: a snake set into an arrow-head shape, its fangs bared as they appeared to strike the head of the Veela.

Karkaroff was the one most affected by the display of brutality on Krum: the once-Quidditch star was more like a mangled corpse, his throat looking like a mock egg-timer as it was crushed beyond reason, the same snake-like arrowhead grafted onto his forehead.

However, the chaos only seemed to spike when Cedric's headless body returned to the scene, Hogwarts and indeed most of the students of all schools yelling in fear when the head rolled from the body, a very familiar mark engraved where the neck should have been: the Dark Mark.

"What does this mean?" asked Fudge, trying to calm the storm; however, the next words that came from a student had him fearing for his job.

"It was You-Know-Who: he's back!"

Ron Weasley, wide-eyed and terrified, ran from behind the stadium, his eyes filled with fear and his stance weighed down by several rather dirty-looking stains on his robes and pants, his skin as pale as death as he repeated, "He's back: the Dark Lord has returned!"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

As Fudge ran to quiet the obviously delusional boy, Dumbledore wishing for a miracle to come and bring Hogwarts back to the life they had known, none of them were aware of two adults and a small band of students moving to the edge of the Hogwarts wards, before a second Portkey was activated, one of the students looking in confusion as they were revealed to the world in what appeared to be a plush-looking living room.

"Ah," hissed a cold voice, making all of them wheel around, the two adults, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, going to their knees along with two of the students, Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom. The final members of their group, Hermione Granger and Ginny Potter, could only watch as the Dark Lord Voldemort revealed himself, Ginny gasping as she appeared to cower behind Hermione. "Well done everyone; I happen to know he is very proud of you."

"W-W-What's he talking about?" asked Ginny, before she suddenly stopped, her part in the Potter bloodline reacting to another presence, one that she couldn't believe, but there was no other explanation.

"I think he means me," an icy, musical voice answered, before Ginny gasped as Hermione left her side and walked over to a pale-faced, lean and very handsome-looking young teenager, a pair of burned-oak-coloured eyes looking to Ginny as the owner of those eyes added, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Ginny: I had to be sure first."

"Sure of what?" asked Ginny, but she cut herself off when a voice entered her thoughts.

{Ginny,} hissed a voice in Parseltongue and Ginny gasped in shock: the last time she had heard that voice was three years before, but surely Dumbledore was wrong, wasn't he?

Nevertheless, Ginny had to reply, "Tom?" she asked, actually hoping to hear the voice of her possessor once again.

{Yes Ginny,} replied the youthful voice, {It's me, but if you can hear and understand me, then what do you suppose it means?}

"The failsafe," whispered Ginny, "He's back, isn't he? I mean, aren't you?"

{Indeed I am Ginny,} Tom answered, {And I need your help; Harry needs your help.}

"But Harry's dead," Ginny sobbed, "You killed him!"

{Why would I kill my heir?} asked Tom, {You were smart Ginny, so please use that brain of yours; I gave you a failsafe for what reason?}

"Your son," Ginny nodded, "But you tried to kill me."

{I did,} admitted Tom, {But now, I am back and we both need your help; are you prepared to answer the call to my son? You gave your word to him, after all.}

Ginny then pieced the puzzle together, "Harry!" she whispered, "Harry's your son!"

"Indeed I am," Harry Riddle answered, now stepping up next to his Father and looking into Ginny's eyes, he gestured with his hand as he added, "_**Let the veil of doubt be lifted; remove the taint and see the light.**_"

Ginny appeared to shiver, before she met Harry's eyes once again, her voice now calm and the same friend that Harry and Hermione had saved; the friend that Harry had helped gain a date and a betrothed; the friend who owed Harry, be he Potter or Riddle, her life and livelihood…

"It's nice to see you again…Young Master."

Harry just smiled before, placing a soft kiss against Hermione's cheek, he walked over to Ginny and hugged her like the sister he'd always seen her as, his voice calm as he spoke to her, "You're among friends here Gin; I'll never let the Light hurt you again and all I ask in return is your friendship, your trust and your allegiance."

"And you have them," Ginny replied, meeting the eyes of the Sith Prince as she added, "Harry Riddle: I pledge myself to your side, your power and your teachings; I pledge myself to the Dark."

"Thank you Ginny," Harry told her, now releasing her as he told the others, "Get up; my Dark Order do not stay on their knees."

As one, the Dark Order, the rebuilt early stages of the New Sith Empire, rose to their feet and gathered around their Young Master, Harry's cold smile now being directed to his Father as he nodded once.

"Let the games begin," Harry told him, "And let the fall of the Light start with this day."

**Once again, a short chapter 20, but the end of the GOF segment and a big twist to the HP universe that most of you will probably disapprove of; so what?**

**Now, with the Order being built under the Sith Prince, how will the Light handle this problem?**

**Also, what lengths will Dumbledore go to in order to see the fall of the Dark Lord?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Hermione meets their new apprentice and Harry enjoys a fun summer with his family and friends, but, with 5th year Hogwarts on the horizon, what challenges await the Sith Order?**

**Please Read and Review…**


	21. Episode 21

Eye Of The Storm

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

**Key Pairings: **Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Neville/Daphne

**Side Pairings: **Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 20:**

**Zamia: No, she's dead and I think the pressure was okay…for the start of things anyway;**

**MariusDarkwolf: Yeah, but if you've learned anything from me Marius, its that I always have a plan;**

**Harryhermionealways: Such an honest and inspiring truth; plus, I'd used similar lines before in another Dark Harry story and they worked, so why waste a good thing?**

**YF54: I hope you can update soon YF; also, a creepy little rhyme there that has the truth and left me with the shivers;**

_As one, the Dark Order, the rebuilt early stages of the New Sith Empire, rose to their feet and gathered around their Young Master, Harry's cold smile now being directed to his Father as he nodded once._

"_Let the games begin," Harry told him, "And let the fall of the Light start with this day."_

Episode 21: Horcruxes and Holocrons

Harry was walking through a dark, secluded area that he recognised as the Forbidden Forest, his wand held in his hand, though it was slightly slack as he approached his destination, his eyes dry and emotionless as he came upon a circle of people.

In front of him, Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, and his Death Eaters all turned and saw Harry there, before the Dark Lord addressed him.

"Harry Potter," he hissed, his voice calm and almost surprised, "The Boy Who Lived; come to die!"

Harry didn't move;

He saw Voldemort lift his wand, a loud declaration echoing across the space between them, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Green light filled Harry's vision, a sharp stabbing pain coming from his scar;

Then all he knew was blackness…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

"No!"

"Harry?"

"Father, why? Please no!"

"Harry, wake up!"

Hermione Granger, hearing the moans of her dark lover, looked at his slumbering form and what she saw she didn't like: Harry was shaking profusely, his forehead drenched in sweat as he tossed and turned, a dark presence invading his bond with her and making Hermione tremble with a sense of fear. Something had gotten into the head of her Dark Lord of the Sith and she couldn't bring him out of it: when she tried the bond, Hermione only found her mind being pushed away and her power being attacked with occasional magical stingers that had her shaking. But she couldn't leave him to shake; she couldn't leave him to suffer this nightmare: she had to wake him up.

"Harry!" she screamed, clutching his face;

The next thing she saw was a flash of red followed by immense pain…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

"AAAHHHHHH!"

Tom and Bellatrix Riddle were torn from their own sleep as the screams of their son and heir echoed through the manor, the Dark Lord feeling an accompanying sense of fear and pain from his little snake as he looked to his bride.

"He's in trouble!" Bella exclaimed, both of them running from the room and moving down to Harry's room; steeling himself, Voldemort, Tom Riddle, gestured with his hand, unlocking the door to Harry's room and stepping inside, his hand clutching at his wand as he prepared to defend his son from whatever had caused such a painful sound.

What they saw, however, was the last thing they expected to see:

Harry was on his knees, his eyes on full Sith golden colours, his hands glowing with blue magic as he kneeled over an injured body, the bushy brown hair and dark eyes revealing the identity of the victim.

Hermione Granger, Muggleborn yes, but the Dark Princess to the Prince, was lying on her side, parts of her nightclothes singed by some great magic, wounds open and scorched into her skin and it was to these wounds that Harry appeared to be directing his power towards.

Keeping his distance, as he knew that Harry would let no-one near him or Hermione when the young girl was in any danger, Tom asked, "What happened little snake?"

"I…I had a n-n-nightmare," Harry explained, his voice trembling with the fear that he was feeling, "H-Hermione tried t-t-to wake me; I h-h-hurt her with the p-p-power of the Force: F-Father," he looked up and Tom actually felt his own heart stop dead as he saw the tears in his son's eyes, "I-I-I c-c-can't heal her: please, help m-m-me."

"Of course we will," Bella replied, moving to her son's side, placing her own hand over his still-glowing palm as she told him, "Like you did with Hermione and your young apprentice, your Dad poured the Force into me: use my power to help you little snake."

As Harry nodded at her request, Bella ran her free hand over his cheek, cleaning away his tears before she placed a soft kiss upon his forehead, watching as the glow from Harry's palm began to brighten, the power causing the air around them to crackle with magic and raw Force energy.

Tom, meanwhile, was looking to his son with eyes of disbelief and bewilderment: how and why had Harry suffered from a nightmare and, on a more important point, what could have been so bad, so emotionally-destroying that it made Harry harm the one girl he cared about more than anyone else in the world?

Even in the time that had passed since the end of the Hogwarts year, Hermione had become a permanent resident of the Riddle House, her own parents, as she revealed, falling victim to the consequences of trying to stop their daughter from leaving the House. Now, just like Harry's ex-Aunt, their minds were broken and they were slaves to her power, both of them acting as alibis for Hermione while she was with her boyfriend.

However, in all that time, Harry had never shown any signs of showing any reason to harm Hermione, nor did he show any reason for such anger, such untapped, unfazed rage to be released upon anyone, let alone the one girl that he would kill to protect.

Joining his family, the Dark Lord placed his hand on Harry and Bella's hands, his other hand placed upon Harry's shoulder as if supporting his son through the pain that he was feeling. However, he had another reason, "Harry, what was the nightmare about?"

"I…I can't say it," Harry told him, "N-not now; p-please Hermione," he added, now returning his attention to the girl, his own body now crackling with silver and black sparks of magic that seemed to charge his will, his golden-coloured eyes turning him into the demon that he had become as of late, "Please come back to me: I'm sorry; I'd never hurt you. Please come back to me: **Hermione!**"

Even as he screamed her name, Harry felt his Force powers growing, the strength and raw energy within him advancing to levels that went through the roof, his own eyes now going from gold to a strong, dark-side fuelled shade of blood red that appeared to come alive within him, the magic that he was using making both Tom and Bella gasp in shock.

"What's he doing?" asked Bella, watching as Harry seemed to go from a full palm to his individual fingers, trailing each of them over the wounds on Hermione's body as he worked, the sparks of lightning around him now becoming a full-force aura of Force Energy that was filled with nothing but pure dark side power.

"Impossible," Tom whispered, watching as the fingered trails that Harry had drawn began to heal Hermione's wounds, the lightning dancing around him seemingly going to work on the wounds, closing them and restoring colour to the body of the Sith Princess. "How can he have _that_ power? It hasn't been seen for years!"

"Tom?" asked Bellatrix, but before the Dark Lord could answer, Harry seemed to return his hand to Hermione's heart, the lightning and power all around him now being pushed into her body, his efforts and power being rewarded by a gasp from the Sith Princess, Harry looking into her eyes with warmth and sorrow.

"H-Harry?" asked Hermione, "What…how did you…"

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, now taking Hermione in his arms, Tom and Bella moving away from the two dark lovers as they saw the fatigue and horror still in the eyes of their son: whatever he had done, in Bella's opinion, it had taken a lot of energy from him and leaving them alone would be the best thing for now. Harry, meanwhile, now had his head bowed to Hermione as he held onto her, "I'm so sorry Hermione; I'd never hurt you like that; never."

"How did you…do that?" asked Hermione, shushing him as she ran a hand through his slick dark hair, "I…I felt so cold and then…then I heard your voice."

"Rest up you two," Tom advised them, actually grinning when Hermione gasped as if she had just realised they were there, "I may have the answers you seek: for now, get some rest; I'll see to it that you're undisturbed."

"Thank you Father," Harry replied, Hermione inclining her head to the Dark Lord as she led Harry back to his bed, Tom and Bella leaving the room and allowing the two Dark Wizards a chance to recover.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "I…I could feel it; I…I was dying…and you…"

"Brought you back," Harry told her, "You already lost me once Hermione: only the Gates of Hell themselves will force you to lose me again."

"But…" Hermione added, looking into Harry's eyes, her own eyes widening when she saw the fully-Dark-Side colour of red in his glare, "How?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, lifting a hand to stroke at her cheek, before he kissed her lips and let her rest her head on his chest, the Sith Prince now staring at his hand as he remembered the rushes of power and how he had used them to do his bidding;

"But I'm going to find out."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

It was much later in the day that Harry found himself able to move again, Hermione remaining close to his side as she watched his movements; unlike when he had been masquerading as Harry Potter, the Riddle Heir moved and acted with a grace, darkness and a sense of power that made every step he took appear to send waves of magic through the ground. His posture was tall, proud and strong and, now dressed in his armour, as was the normal attire for the Dark Prince since his Father's return, he moved through the manor with the look and attitude of a man on a mission.

The few Death Eaters that were present at the moment parted their ways for him, saluting or bowing when he passed them by, though their looks of fear told Hermione that they had reason to show respect to their Young Master and his Princess. Yes, as she had expected, there had been those who would have tried to challenge her as being Harry's bride of the Force, but, one nasty bout of magical pain and Force Lightning later and they changed their minds, submitting before Harry and Hermione like a whipped animal.

Reaching his destination, Harry stopped in his tracks, turned to Hermione, placed a soft kiss on her lips, before he turned back and, with the voice of the dark commander that he had become, he told her, "No matter what we see or hear in here, know that I will always be the same Prince of Darkness that you know and love, okay Ventress?"

The use of her mantle told Hermione that Harry was deadly serious about discovering the truth, his tone and mannerism only faltering slightly because of the love that he felt for her; he was a true member of the Dark Side now, but he still had room in his heart and soul for her and he always would.

Taking his hand, Hermione inclined her head, kissing the back of his knuckles, before she answered, "Of course I know that Giudizio: shall we go in?"

Opening the door, Harry strode into the familiar Riddle Manor lounge, his Mother and Father seated around the ornate fireplace, a second pair of chairs set between them as if to symbolise the places in their lives that the family used. With a sad, yet child-like smile, Harry let his dark mask fall before he addressed them, "Mum, Dad; thanks for earlier, but can you tell me why you thought it was impossible Father?"

"Of course Harry," Tom replied, motioning to his left-hand side as he suggested, "You should take a seat."

When he did so, Harry lowered his head, his firm, determined expression fixed in place again as he asked, "What's so impossible about what I did and, more importantly, why did I hurt my Hermione in the first place?"

"To the second," Tom replied, "I can only wager that it's something to do with your dream; when you snapped out of your sleeping, your subconscious saw the threat and you reacted, harming Hermione and allowing yourself to be driven further into the Dark Side than you have ever gone before. You see Harry, this brings us to your first part of the question: what's so impossible about what you did? To answer that question, I need to know: in your studies, did you ever read of the true ways of the Dark Side?"

"No," Harry answered firmly, his eyes on his parents, Hermione on his left-hand side so that she was next to Bellatrix, who watched her son with the same strength and attention that Hermione had done while Harry had been recovering.

"I thought not," Tom smiled, "Your plans and education have no doubt been dampened by the fact that you had to pretend to be someone else; no matter. You see Harry, the Dark Side is similar, in many ways, to the Dark Arts of magic: now, a few years back, I told you something about the ways of Light and Dark: do you remember what that was?"

"Yes Father," Harry replied honestly, "You, or rather Quirrell, told me that there is no good or evil; there is only power and those too weak to seek it."

"And I was right," Tom explained, "In both that there is no good or evil and that there is only power; it's the same with the ways of the Force. You see Harry, what you did was reached into the bare essence of the Force and transferred your own power into Hermione to bring her back from the very edge of death. It's sort of like the Muggle movies where you catch someone with one hand before they go over the edge of a bridge or a cliff: well, your one hand, so to speak, was you trying to heal Hermione's wounds. However, through your love for her, your determination to bring her back to you and your will to keep her at your side so that she may spend the rest of her life with you, this _one hand_ gained another and gave you immeasurable strength over the Dark Side. This strength activated the power of Dark Transfer, as it was known in the days of Revan, and gave you the power to heal Hermione and bring her back to you. I say that it is impossible because, with the exception of very few Sith from Revan's time, hardly any wizard-born Sith have ever learned this power, myself included."

"So you're saying that I can save someone from death?" asked Harry, "Does that include me?"

"That," Tom answered, "I don't know, but we both know someone who would and, luckily, I have the means to contact this person locked beneath the manor."

"Revan!" gasped Harry, "One of his Holocrons?"

"Yes," Tom remarked, "I found it some time before my death and it helped me to advance my own powers, which included allowing me to share my own Force Powers with another, which is how and why your powers got stronger when your Mother and I helped you. I will take you down to the Temple where I have stored the Holocron and, if you speak to Revan, I'm sure you will find the answers you seek and also the means to gaining more power than you have ever known."

"Yes Father," Harry replied, his firm expression softening at the thought of what power he now possessed; as he met his Father's gaze, Harry then asked, "I suppose that you'd like to know about my dream now, right?"

"That's right," Tom nodded, his own voice growing concerned as he explained, "Harry, you love Hermione, this much I know and accept, so I need to know what kind of horrors would make you do something like that to her."

"All right," Harry sighed, though he had to hesitate as he found his body being held by Hermione, the Sith Princess moving into his lap as she kept him calm and comforted.

{Take it one step at a time, my love,} she advised him mentally, {I'll be here through it all.}

{Thank you Princess,} Harry replied, looking up to Hermione's soft, though cold, brown eyes before he turned and, looking to his Father, gave the shortest, most to-the-point answer that he could, "I saw you kill me."

Silence filled the lounge, the only sound in the hall being Hermione's gasp of shock while the sounds of the room around them remained as still and silent as the grave, Tom's face now paling while Bellatrix went to move behind her son, her own arms moving around his neck as she held onto him.

"Are…are you sure of that little one?" asked Bella, looking from Harry to her husband, who still stared in shock at the revelation.

"I wish I wasn't," Harry told her, resting his head against his Mother's arm as he saw his Father's expression harden. "It was like a vision of the future, because I was older and you were…well, for want of a lesser term, you were Voldemort and not my Father. We were in the Forbidden Forest and I seemed to be calmer than I would have been in that place; then I came upon you and the Death Eaters, you turned to me and I didn't even strike you. You then spoke to me; you said, and I quote: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, come to die; well, I think you can guess what you did next and then I bolt awake and…do what I did."

"No wonder you were angry," Hermione told him, placing a soft kiss against his lips, "Your anger must have exceeded your powers because it felt like you were using Storm and Death Field on me at the same time; I tried to get you to snap out of it, but you just snarled and then, when I cried out your name, you stopped and screamed."

"I'd _never_ intentionally hurt you Hermione," Harry told her, now returning the kiss as he accepted her truth; truthfully, he hadn't known himself what power he had used on her, but now he did…and he didn't like it.

"I know you wouldn't," Hermione smiled, resting her head on Harry's chest while Bella seemed content to run her hand through her son's hair, both of them watching Tom as he stood up and, turning to his son, looked him in the eyes before he shook his head.

"Similarly," he told Harry, "Nothing on this planet will make me kill you, not after what you did for me, which means that this is either a trap or something I've overlooked and, as scary as it sounds, I think I know what that is."

"What Father?" asked Harry, though he couldn't help but notice a slight sense of fear in his Father's voice; whatever this was, it was going to be something dangerous.

Tom, gathering all his strength and the caring emotions that he felt towards his son, came right out and said it;

"I think I made you into a Horcrux!"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

_Horcruxes_

_Considered by most of the wizarding world to be the source of the darkest magic in history, a Horcrux is, in all intents and purposes, a means to escape the chilling touch of death. Creation of a Horcrux is long and pain-staking as it involves a complex ritual featuring blood and murder while, at the same time, a spiritually tuned item, such as the legendary dagger of Salazar Slytherin, which would be able to hold a person's soul._

_A Horcrux in itself is a piece of dark magic that takes the form of an item: it is an object in which a person has concealed a part of their soul. Someone who fashions a Horcrux splits their soul and hides it in an object; then they are protected should they be attacked and their body destroyed. This way, when death comes to claim the caster, all they need to do is draw upon the power of the Horcrux and they cannot die._

_Several dark wizards in their time have claimed to have crafted a successful Horcrux, but, to our extensive knowledge, only one wizard has ever been successful and crafted not one but seven: the Dark Lord Voldemort._

_Horcruxes, while dark and extremely powerful, can also be destroyed by methods such as Fiendfyre or Class 5 materials such as Basilisk Venom and powerful dark rituals. Similarly, a Horcrux can be reabsorbed into the caster's soul by means of a painful blood rite that can leave the target destroyed/dead with the same results threatening the caster._

"A Horcrux," Harry whispered, his eyes filled with sudden rage as he read the information in the library, before he looked to where his Father, the man who had crafted the Horcrux, was watching him sadly, "A piece of your soul is inside me?"

"It is," Tom replied, his dark visage trying and failing to remain in the mannerism of the Dark Lord as he saw his son's rage expressed towards him; shaking his head, Tom explained, "Harry, I am willing to swear on everything you have done for me and all that you mean to me that I didn't mean to create one; in my death, my soul must have extended out to you and sealed itself there in an attempt to protect you."

"Then this is why," Harry told him, his voice now becoming a sibilant hiss that bordered on a growl, "This is why I have all this power, why I have so much evil in me; not because I'm your son, if that is true, but because of this soul piece."

"Harry…"

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped, his rage causing the shelves in the room to tremble as he faced the Dark Lord, "Tell me _Father_, why _did_ you try and kill me three times in my Hogwarts life? Why did a spirit ask Quirrell to kill me and then, a year later, why did you have Lucius place a vessel inside Hogwarts where you could come back from the inside? Why, yet again, did you gloat when I came close to death if I really am your son? Tell me, Lord Voldemort, why did you do all this?"

Tom felt himself breaking down inside; here was the young man that he had hoped his son would be, but he was right to question the actions of the Riddle Lord…however, something Harry had said made Tom double-back on himself, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "What do you mean Lucius placed a vessel inside Hogwarts?"

"You should know," Harry told him, pointing an accusing finger at the man opposite him, "After all, it was…your…your…"

"My…what?" asked Tom, but Harry's anger had passed; now there was only a look of shock as if a penny that had been in the air had finally dropped.

"Your…diary," Harry answered, his voice surprisingly calm whereas, not a few minutes beforehand, it had been baying for his Father's blood. "Lucius had your diary smuggled inside Hogwarts and the Chamber of Secrets was reopened; a spirit, your younger self, possessed Ginny and had her attack Muggleborns _including_ Hermione…"

'I wondered where his love for her really began,' thought Tom, though he couldn't speak as, just like Harry, he too felt rage and anger at what he was hearing and what he was learning.

"…and then, when I figured out where the Chamber was, your younger self had the Basilisk attack me: if it hadn't been for Fawkes and the Sword of Gryffindor coming to my aid, I'd be dead. So, back to it, why did you do those things?"

"Harry," Tom informed him, "I offer no excuses for what I did to you when we first met again in your first year; I was angry and I thought you had turned your back on me. I should have realised that you knew nothing about who or what you really were and for that, I offer my sincerest apologies and vow never to harm you again. Now, as for your second year, you have no doubt figured out what I have suspected since you told me about Lucius."

"Yes…Father," Harry replied, hesitating as he met the man's eyes, seeing sincerity and truth in the red-eyed gaze as the Dark Lord nodded to him, "Your diary, like me; it's…a Horcrux, isn't it?"

"It is," Tom replied, "And I am Harry; I am your Father and you are my son; contrary to what people believe about me, my heart belongs to three people; your Mother, Bellatrix Riddle, myself, one Tom Marvolo Riddle, and of course, my son and heir, my little snake, you, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle."

"Dad," Harry gasped, falling to his knees, his head bowed before his Father as he spoke, "Please…I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Tom smiled, moving towards his son and, lowering down, the Dark Lord wrapped his arms around Harry's body, the Sith Prince shivering in his embrace. "You were angry Harry; I understand, but I do love you and your Mother and I always will. You are my son, my prince, my heir, my little snake and I will do everything in my power to see you get yours; I'm sorry that I attacked you and I'm sorry for endangering your life."

"I…" Harry began, but faltered as he seemed to bow his head to his Father.

"What is it Harry?" asked Tom, "You can tell me anything; you can never do anything to upset me. Even as a baby I could never be angry at you because I cared for you too much, so don't you ever flinch away from me."

"Dad," Harry replied, his arms now moving around his Father's body as he held onto him, a part of him accepting the familial feelings that he was being given by the Dark Lord. "I…I was saying sorry because…when I faced the Basilisk and was saved by Fawkes, I…I destroyed the diary."

Tom wasn't angry; he would never be angry with Harry, but the revelation had him coming very close; keeping his voice calm, the Dark Lord ran a hand through Harry's soft black hair, his emotions keeping him in check as he gave his son a single response, "I forgive you."

"I had no choice," Harry told him, "I was still…"

"I know you were," Tom explained, "And I see that now; so, given I tried to kill you the year before, I guess this makes us even."

"I guess so," Harry laughed, Tom now ruffling his hair as he held onto his son and heir, "I am sorry for shouting Dad."

"It's okay Harry," Tom remarked, "I'm still trying to get used to having my son back, let alone my body, so I think I should make some allowances for an emotional volcano otherwise known as my teenage son."

"What are you going to do about the Horcrux in me?" asked Harry, now meeting the eyes of the Dark Lord as they returned their attention to the library.

"I'm going to reabsorb it," Tom explained, "After you've spoken to Revan: see if he can tell you about any trances we can use, because I don't want to hurt you Harry."

"Because it's you Dad," Harry replied, using the Force to clear away the damages and research he had done on the sore subject of his life, "I wouldn't care if you did."

**Chapter 21 and Harry knows the truth, has discovered a new power and has heard of another Holocron, but what surprises await him in another meeting with Darth Revan?**

**Also, what will the repercussions be for Harry Riddle going to Hogwarts? Will it be with or without the Horcrux?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry meets Revan and a surprise is revealed concerning the power of the Holocrons; also, the Dark Order have a meeting and Harry has to silence the naysayers, but there's even worse news on the horizon; also, a surprise guest is revealed at Riddle Manor as Harry's newest warrior and ally;**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: The force power that Harry used to fully revive Hermione is the power used by Cade Skywalker in the SW Graphic Novels;**


	22. Episode 22

Eye Of The Storm

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

**Key Pairings: **Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Neville/Daphne

**Side Pairings: **Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

**Review Answers for Episode 21:**

**Harryhermionealways: Their power will only get stronger and both the MOB and DMW will be the first to witness it; **

**Loki Palmer: A humorous little scene in that review; and it's also true;**

**T4: Harry is still recognised as the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, so yes, he will still be able to speak Parseltongue;**

**OriginalGentleman: No, Voldemort used his son's blood and NOT the Horcrux to return to the land of the living;**

"_What are you going to do about the Horcrux in me?" asked Harry, now meeting the eyes of the Dark Lord as they returned their attention to the library._

"_I'm going to reabsorb it," Tom explained, "After you've spoken to Revan: see if he can tell you about any trances we can use, because I don't want to hurt you Harry."_

"_Because it's you Dad," Harry replied, using the Force to clear away the damages and research he had done on the sore subject of his life, "I wouldn't care if you did."_

Episode 22: The Imperial Knights

After talking about the truth concerning his powers, Harry managed to read up a little more on the ritual behind absorbing a Horcrux and what he read he didn't like: on one point, the caster and creator of the Horcrux – in this case, the Dark Lord Voldemort – would have to feel sorrow and regret for the murder cast on the forming of the Horcrux. As he explained to Harry upon learning this, the Dark Lord regretted doing what had to be done every damned day; following that, given that it was a living thing that had been turned into a Horcrux, the vessel would have to lower all of his shields and be willing to surrender his mind, body, magic and soul to the caster so that he could return his soul piece to his body.

Two tasks; one easy and one that may as well be asking for the life of someone that you loved and, in his own mind, Harry began to ask himself if there was another way for this to happen.

The answer was…there wasn't;

Over dinner that evening, Harry remained close to both his Father and his girlfriend, Hermione getting stronger now that her bond with Harry was once again complete, though parts of her body still showed signs of the accident from earlier that day. As they ate, the Dark Lord looked to his armoured son before he asked, "So, when would you like to visit the Temple?"

"After dinner," Harry explained, "If you could show me the way Father and then, after that, I'll need to speak to Revan's spirit alone."

"Of course," Tom smiled, watching as Harry appeared to be lost in thought: he knew that the ritual required so much for something that was important to both Father and Son, but, if their plan to trap the Light and bring about the Second Coming of the Sith was to be a success, then Harry _needed_ to be at his fullest potential, his power at its apex level.

That was who Harry had to become at Hogwarts: the Apex Predator; the Silver King of Slytherin and the one true dark force among those naysayers and fools of the light; a wolf in sheep's clothing, to give it a more common comparison.

As they ate, Bella looked across the table at her little snake, before she reached out and brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes, her voice calm as she asked, "How do you feel son? Better?"

"I…I don't know," Harry admitted, putting down his fork as he linked his fingers and looked back at his Mother, "I know the whole story, at last, but there's still a part of me that wonders about the how and why of what happened. I mean, there's one question that really bugs me and it's how and why Dumbledore was able to learn about Mum…I mean Lily and James' roles in our forces?"

"He raises a good point my dear," Tom agreed, now looking to Harry as he spoke, "Even I was not aware of how Dumbledore knew until…well until Pettigrew betrayed us both."

"And there's the other point," Harry pointed out, aware of Hermione now listening to this conversation; taking her hand, the Sith Prince smiled before he asked, "Why did Pettigrew betray people that he considered his friends and idols for nothing more than the right to be known? That's…well that's just stupid."

"Harry," Tom reminded him, "It _is_ Wormtail; he puts a capitalised letter S in stupid."

"I suppose," Harry sighed, rubbing his hand at his temples as he tried not to think about the past, "But I also suppose that it won't be difficult to fool the old bastard and turn a blind eye to his true beliefs. Thanks to my little mind games, we have our own Wormtail-like character in the Dead Man Walking better known as Ronald Weasley; also, we now have Ginny, Draco, Neville a.k.a. Mandalore and his forces not to mention all of Slytherin, Severus, Remus _and_ the powers of the Sith. If you ask me, the big return of the Big Bad Dark Lord is going to be a hell of a lot more successful than the first wars ever were. The best part about all of this is that we will have our forces right under that Manipulative, Murderous Old Bastard's nose and he won't even notice until it's too little, too late."

"Now _that's _the thinking of a Sith Prince," Tom smiled, ruffling Harry's hair as he asked, "So, are you ready?"

Pushing his plate away, Harry sighed, stretched up tall, cricked his neck and, with a smile, answered, "Lead on Father."

As the two males rose from the table, Harry stumbled suddenly as Hermione pulled him back down, before she placed a warm, longing kiss on his lips, both of them held by the other as she whispered to him, "Be careful and come back to me."

"Always Mione," Harry promised, placing another soft kiss on her forehead as he turned to go after his Father, "Always."

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

Leading Harry out of the Manor, Tom guided his son around the side of the house, the soft sound of stones and granite being crunched under his boots calming Harry as he followed his Father. For a short second, he wondered if the Dark Lord was going to lead him back into the graveyard; however, as they passed the pathway that led down to the graveyard, Tom instead led his son over to the western side of the manor gardens where, as they walked, Harry noticed a mysterious obelisk that was hidden by shadows, the base of the obelisk decorated in runes that he recognised from the Complex in the Ebon Hawk.

Turning to his son, Tom explained, "You'll need your sabre."

Retrieving his weapon of choice from his belt, Harry ignited it with a click of the button, the thick blade of black energy glowing in the night as Tom then indicated a niche in the base of the stone, ironically in the centre of where the runes were inscribed.

"Place the blade in there and turn it once to the left," he instructed Harry, "From there, follow the path and you'll find the Temple: would you like me to wait here?"

"No Dad," Harry answered, "You can return to the Manor: I'll see you in the morning."

"Be careful son," Tom added, his tone indicating the feelings he had for his own flesh and blood, "And, after you're done down there, make sure you get a good night's sleep: tomorrow night is our first official meeting and I want my son and heir at full strength."

"Yes Father," Harry replied, inclining his head to his Father as he then followed the man's instructions; sliding his sabre blade into the niche, Harry turned it once to the left, hearing a soft click and what sounded like gears being turned, before the stone where Harry had placed his lightsabre began to part into segments, creating a doorway that, as Harry lifted his sabre, he saw to lead down into the underbelly of the earth. Shutting off his sabre, Harry stepped into the cavern, the entrance closing behind him with another soft click; lifting his hand, the Sith Prince summoned a ball of flames to his side, the dark red light from the fire lighting the stone stairway, the walls around him decorated in what looked like solid stone and steel.

Descending further underground, Harry had to stop for a moment as he actually _felt_ the power of the Dark Side fuelling the support and existence of this temple, his eyes now turning into Sith golden colours as the power of the Dark Side made his own Force Powers seemingly purr with tempted satisfaction. Whatever power dwelled within these walls, Harry was about to come face to face with it and, when he did, he knew that he had to be ready for whatever happened.

'Remember,' he told himself, 'This is something that Revan himself set up; anything could happen down here.'

Following the stairway downwards, Harry had to stop as the rushes of power from the Dark Side grew stronger until, at long last, the passageway opened out and, as he let his eyes adjust to the light of this new chamber, Harry looked around slowly, his eyes taking in every detail. In some ways, it reminded Harry of the complex owned by Revan in Gringotts, except that there was no Krayt Dragon or HK down here; there were what looked like mannequins that held robes and clothes that looked like they'd be worn by Sith or Sith Wizards. There were also rows of shelves filled with scrolls and what looked like tomes on different topics, but there, in the centre of the room, set upon a platform, was a metallic-like pyramid with a single red point at its tip.

Approaching the platform, Harry dismissed the flame that he had summoned and, reaching into his robe, he withdrew his Blood Blade and, placing it against the tip of his finger, Harry cut at his skin, drops of his own blood falling onto the tip of the pyramid; moments passed that seemed like hours, but, at long last, the red tip seemed to glow and, as Harry looked around, he gasped in shock as the room suddenly changed.

What once had been a chamber that looked like a vault in Gringotts was now a futuristic-looking room that, for a short second, looked vaguely familiar to Harry; looking around, the Sith Prince took notice of what appeared to be blaster burns and streaks that he recognised as coming from lightsabres. Looking down at his feet, Harry then gasped as he recognised the area that he was standing in; a runic circle was carved around his feet, the design of the circle engraved and empowered by a fluidic red substance that Harry didn't need to guess: he knew it was blood.

"This is the _Vanquisher,_" he whispered, "Master Revan's flagship where he and Bastila crossed paths for the last time."

"Very good Harry," a cold voice hissed, making Harry look up, before he swiftly dropped to one knee, his head bowed before the owner of the voice, or should that be…owners?

Two figures were standing before him; one of them was a tall, proud male that was dressed in the same armour that Harry was wearing, his face covered by the helmet that completed the armour, a set of powerful-looking spikes being revealed at the elbows and knees of the armour, a long black coat covering the armour as the figure looked to Harry, his mask hiding his face.

His companion, on the other hand, was a woman that was dressed in black robes that Harry recognised as being those of a Dark Jedi, alias a Sith, Master; at her belt was a silver-handled dual-edged lightsabre; she had very pale skin and cold yellow eyes that looked upon Harry with a mixture of finality and respect. Her dark brown hair was tied up behind her head, save for two bangs that seemed to cover her forehead and, when she saw Harry kneel, the woman's smile increased.

"Lord Revan," Harry whispered, remaining on his knees before these figures, "Lady Bastila; is…is this real?"

"It is," Bastila answered; her voice was just as sharp and cold-edged as Hermione had described it: every word demanded respect and held an air of power; both of which Harry was more than willing to submit to his ancestors. "The Holocrons have been activated by you, Harry Riddle, and through your blood, they allow our souls to commune and speak with you directly rather than record our histories."

"So," continued Darth Revan, "With that in mind: I think it only fair that I show you my true face my young descendant and then you can get up and we can talk."

Harry, still on his knees, heard the familiar hiss of his helmet being removed, before he dared to look up…and a gasp of surprise passed his lips; standing before him, underneath Darth Revan's helmet, was an almost exact double of what he'd looked like as Harry Potter. Wild black hair that held a streak of white across its fringe, shaped like a bolt of lightning; cold, but powerful emerald-green eyes looked down at the young Riddle and, with the exception of the muscle on his body and the deathly pale colour of his face, Revan looked _exactly_ like Harry's old self.

"I see my form surprises you," Revan told him, a cold smile crossing his face that, for a second, made Harry actually take notice of how scary he'd looked when he grinned. "But it is no real surprise: such looks and traits have been passed down the line for so long; no doubt, when you were charmed to look like Harry Potter, the one who cast the charms had my image in mind; I must say that this…slick, colder look on you is much better."

"Th-thank you Lord Revan," Harry gasped, before he remembered what Revan had said; rising from his position, he asked, "Do you know what it is that I wish to know about?"

"I do," Revan answered, sweeping his hand around them; moments later, they were in a room that looked like it held the same futuristic influence as the _Vanquisher_, except that this room also bore a large metallic table and a view-screen window that showed the galaxy beyond. "And I think that the place where the name Darth Revan was truly reborn makes for the perfect place to talk: don't you Harry?"

"Oh, yes my Lord," Harry replied, before he swallowed hard as he asked, "Or shall I go back to calling you Master?"

"You can call me Revan," explained the Sith Lord, "As that is my name and, as I told you when last we spoke, you no longer need to call me Master; you know," he added, watching as Harry took his own seat, Revan and Bastila joining him. "I've been watching you since that day Harry; from the spectral points in the Force, I've been observing you and, if I may be so bold, what I've seen, I like. Your allies serve you with strength, honour, friendship and, of course, loyalty; you have the beautiful woman that is Miss Granger as your bride, your Bastila, if you like. You also have the alliance of the Mandalorians and Mandalore as your warriors and, of course, you have found your family and bid farewell to the life that you once held, but, speaking of that, I need to know: was it _really_ necessary to fake your death?"

"If I hadn't done," Harry told him, "My secret would have been known and, besides, there was a willing volunteer to keep up the appearances and then, in my armour, I made myself known to the forces of the Light and, let me tell you, even now I can still taste their fear: it's like a rare wine."

"His attitude reminds me of you beloved," Bastila commented, her eyes on Revan as she listened to Harry, "And his reason for doing so has the logic and strategy behind it that turned me into one of the greatest fighters on both the sides of the Republic and the Sith."

"And then," Revan laughed, "You saw the light my love; and so did I, thanks to everything we had gone through together. Of course," he added, now looking back to Harry, "Your reasoning was exemplary: I applaud your cunning in turning your enemies' fears against them; after all, it is fear that is the spark towards the power of the Dark Side. Now, in case you're wondering as to our new location: we are sitting in the bridge area of my greatest weapon in my time as Sith Lord: the Star Forge. It was the source of my power and allowed Bastila and I to build our armies and make them better than ever, even going as far as founding the legions known today as the Shadow Legions."

'So that's where Neville's forces came from?' Harry thought, listening to Revan's story.

"And," continued the Sith Lord, "As you requested Harry, we are here to talk about the full extent of your power and the realm of strength and Dark Side potential that you touched on when you saved your bride from the edge of death itself, thus preserving her life force and empowering it, bringing her back."

"What you did," Bastila explained, "Was touch a region of the Force that, in the times of Revan and myself, were left to be forbidden arts by the Jedi Council and sought after powers for the Sith. Only some of the greatest Force Adepts in the known worlds had this power and now, generations later, that power is revealed in your bloodline and lineage."

"Okay," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he spoke to his ancestors. "Onto the next question: should I fear this power and are there any limits to what I can do with it?"

"Technically," Revan laughed, "That's two questions Harry, but the answers are no; you shouldn't fear this power and, as for the second question, now that you have touched the higher, if not Elite forms of the Force, then your limits have reached their zenith. It takes great strength of will, mind and Force affinity to perform such a feat. So, in response to your question, my answer is…no; right now, in the state of Force control that you had when you used Dark Transfer, your powers are limitless. However, that doesn't mean that you yourself don't have limits, because you still do: the ways and levels in which you can use your Force Powers are limited by your physical and magical strengths."

"I understand," Harry replied, his eyes filled with strength and knowledge now flowing through his mind, keeping him at the right level where he knew his limits.

"Now," Revan continued, "Onto our next point: the bond between you and Hermione also grows stronger as does the bond between you and your family; this, in itself, has shown you the power of the Dark Side at its peak and given you an insight into how using other Force Adepts can increase your own power output. However, with you and Hermione, there is the main foundation for the rise of the Sith Empire if that is what you still wish to do."

"It is," Harry told him, "I was biding my time until I had my family and my Father's forces back at my side, but, going back to what you just said Revan; you said that I was the main foundation for the rise; does that mean that even my Father is below me in the terms of the Sith Circle of Power?"

"Yes," Revan answered, "Your Father _was_ a Sith Lord, but when he died, he passed that title onto you, his son and apprentice; now you have your own apprentice and your Father is still recognised as the rank of Sith Lord, but the mantle in itself belongs to you, Harry."

"Wow," Harry gasped, before he looked to the two ancient Sith as he asked, "So, now that I have my answers, tell me: what are your wishes for your descendant?"

"We have no wishes Harry," Revan explained, "Except that you continue to grow stronger and integrate more members of your wizarding circle into the Sith Order; also, to hide your true nature from those who would destroy you, give the Order a real name."

"A name?" asked Harry, "Like what?"

"Whatever you want it to be," Bastila continued for Revan, "But once you bring members into the fold, make sure that their powers and abilities are for the good of the Force and the Dark Side. Then, while you appear to be a regular student at Hogwarts, in the shadows, you will be Darth Giudizio, Dark Lord of the Sith and Master of…well, whatever you call your Order."

"I see," Harry nodded, looking back to Revan as he asked, "So I build my forces while masquerading as a typical student studying for his exams and, all the while, my faction gains new members, I gain new powers and my descent into the darkness becomes set in stone."

"That is correct," Revan answered, rising from his seat; Harry followed suit seconds later as the Sith Lord continued, "Also keep your eyes open for my other Holocrons; the more power you have, the stronger your forces will be. Once you find them, absorb the Dark Side energy within them and then, when you have found and claimed them all, you will have become that which you wish to be in the order of things: the Apex Predator, the Dark Lord of Judgment. This task, my young descendant, my Dark Lord of the Sith, I now give to you: go to it, I charge you."

"Yes Lord Revan," Harry replied, bowing his head as he felt the energy swirling around him once more; when he next looked up, Harry saw that he was standing in the temple once again, the Holocron now glowing faintly with the red aura of the Dark Side. Remembering Revan's instructions, Harry extended his hand and tapped into the power of the Dark Side itself; with a cold grin, the Dark Prince, the Lord of the Sith, actually shuddered with pleasure as the waves of dark energy from the Holocron were absorbed into his body, his eyes becoming feral and his body trembling with dark laughter that rang through the temple.

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

It may have been cliché, but the sight of a thunderstorm, rolling across the countryside area that surrounded Riddle Manor and Little Hangleton made Harry feel the essence of darkness in the air; sitting upon his own specially-crafted throne at his Father's side, the Dark Prince smiled with a sense of anticipation, a dark hunger burning in him. Tonight, he would learn the truth about those who followed his Father and, at the Dark Lord's request, Harry had been permitted to slay any and all who challenged him.

A ripple of magic then crossed Harry's mind, his cold smile making him look as feral as the colour of his Sith eyes as he looked to the Dark Lord and, with a hiss of a whisper, he told him, "They're here."

"Indeed they are my son," Voldemort replied, watching as Harry seemed to grow into his element; the Dark Lord could see it: he and Bellatrix had been hoping they could dote on their son and heir, treating him like their little boy. However, thanks to the revelations about the Horcruxes and the methods that Harry had used to become the Prince and Lord that he was, they both agreed that he was their son, but the little boy was now a man and the dark royals were reunited together.

As they sat there, the Dark Prince then smiled when the door to the throne room opened and the first few Death Eaters stepped inside, Harry immediately recognising the no-nonsense posture of Lucius as well as Severus' sweeping walk; he had suspected Lucius was joining them as, not too much earlier, Draco had turned up and sworn his full allegiance to Harry's cause as a thanks for what he and the newly named Dark Princess Ventress had done for them. As other members of the Dark Order joined Lucius and Severus, Harry felt it: a sense of worry and fear that had his mind going back to their first meeting out in that courtyard; to how they had felt as and when they had met with their Lord and Young Master for the first time.

That fear; that _delicious_, welcoming elixir of fear and bone-jarring numbness was here once again: Harry had a feeling he was going to enjoy this meeting.

When the last Death Eater had entered the room, bowed to Harry, kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes and joined the Circle, the Dark Lord raised his hand for silence before he spoke, "Welcome my friends; tonight, the changing of the guard has been brought to my attention: tonight, my son, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle has chosen his own dark legions of followers and now, before each and every one of you, he wishes to give you all…a little gift: Harry?"

Rising from his own throne, Harry lifted his hand and, pushing it downwards, doused the flames around them, the torches that lit the throne room now becoming almost un-noticeable sparks of flame that flickered in their sockets, bathing the room in an eerie darkness. Lowering his hand completely, Harry spoke with the air and authority of the young Prince that he had become. "When last we spoke, I introduced you to my apprentice and had those who were foolish enough to question my heritage silenced; now, I wish to introduce you to the others of that same order and I ask anyone who opposes them to please, speak their minds."

A loud snap filled the air, startling most of the Dark Order as the flames then leapt back into existence, a cry of shock filling the room as the Death Eaters now found themselves surrounded by armoured warriors, each one of them bearing what appeared to be staffs and weapons that could only be described as advanced guns, rifles and blasters. As the Death Eaters stared, one unfortunate soul spoke out, "Muggle weapons? My Lord, are you saying that…"

"Reveal yourself!" snapped Voldemort, Harry laughing as a middle-aged man was revealed to him; he was one of those who had been there when McNair had been foolish enough to question Harry's birthright; now here was someone else questioning his allies. "Rookwood," Voldemort growled, "You little fool: Harry, I leave him to you."

"Yes Father," Harry replied, his smile like that of a shark smelling blood in the water; extending his hand, Harry turned his palm upwards and curled his fingers into a claw-like gesture; at the same time, Rookwood began gasping at the air around him, his hands scrabbling for his throat, his eyes wide with terror. Harry, however, wished to show just what kind of emotionless state he was in where his power was concerned: lifting his hand, the Sith Lord lifted Rookwood into the air, the man's gasps becoming desperate. Looking to the Death Eaters around the unfortunate soul, Harry spoke with a hissing tone, "This is who I _really _am and any who think my friends are Muggles are sorely mistaken: allow me to prove it: Mandalore?"

As the Death Eaters looked on in fear at the level of power in their Young Master, their fear only spiked when a black-armoured warrior stepped from within the circle of weapon-bearing warriors and bowed on one knee before Harry, his voice distorted by the helmet he was wearing, "Yes Lord Giudizio?"

"On my command," Harry explained, looking to the Mandalorian Commander, "Order your men to kill this traitor and then have them rip his body apart: oh, and make sure that none of them can touch him physically so that our friends here see and hear his death."

"At your command my Lord," Mandalore replied, rising from his kneeled position; turning to the other warriors, the commander gave his command, "Shadows; prepare your armaments for death and desecration!"

The Shadows, if that's what they were called, gave a strong cry of obedience, each of them shedding their guns and blasters and instead pulling their staffs from over their backs; pointing each of the staffs at the still struggling Rookwood, Mandalore turned his head and, under his helmet, actually shuddered when he saw the predatory smile on Harry's face.

"Do it," commanded the Sith Lord.

Mandalore snapped his fingers; instead of the sickly green light of the Avada Kedavra Curse, the room was filled with a mass of red, gold, black and silver lights, the spells clearly unknown to the Death Eaters, but, as they sliced through Rookwood's body, the room was only filled with the man's screams, before, with a clench of his fist, Harry silenced the man for good.

"Finish it," he snarled, looking to the left of the shadowed warriors; from within their ranks, Harry's apprentice, Ferrox, stepped forwards, reached down to his belt and withdrew a strange black cylinder; activating the device with a click of a button, Ferrox revealed a dual-edged red-bladed lightsabre, the eyes of the Mandalorian Apprentice filled with honour as he pulled his arm back and then, without so much as a second's hesitation, he launched the sabre towards Rookwood's body, the red blades now spinning like a demonic saw-blade of death.

Some of the Death Eaters would later lose their lunch when they remembered bearing witness to the power of their young Master, the mysterious red blade slicing through Rookwood's body and sending it to the floor, his body now split in two exposing skin, muscle, bone and blood, the eyes of the man burned out of his head by their Lord.

"Anyone else?" asked Harry.

The Dark Order shook their heads, each one of them bowing to their Young Master and accepting their new allies in that one moment, though Harry wasn't done yet.

"These are but the watchers and final step in my order," he explained to the Death Eaters, "There will be those who are members of our Dark Order that will see their own next generation becoming one of us; one of my dark warriors, a member of the Imperial Knights; warriors of darkness that answer directly to either myself or my dark princess, Lady Ventress. Understand this: should any of my Knights be harmed by any member here, then the punishment for that treachery will be _far_ worse than what you saw poor Rookwood go through: am I clear?"

"Yes Young Master," the Death Eaters replied, all of them shuddering as they saw the emotionless eyes of their Young Master meet each of them in turn, before, with that shark-like smile, Harry returned to his throne and watched as his Father continued with the meeting…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

After the meeting, Harry didn't return to his room or even consider regretting what he had done to prove his power to the Death Eaters: this was to be a war and there were to be casualties; however, as he moved downwards towards the dungeons underneath his family home, the Sith Lord gave a sly grin as he considered what was his greatest feat.

Opening the entrance to the dungeons with a hiss of Parseltongue, Harry's mind travelled back to a time when he had still been that _pretender_, when he had seen the Light with his own eyes and was just in the early stages of gathering allies.

Much to his surprise, he had found allies in rivals and, on that day, he had made a plan that had come to fruition: stopping near the end of the room, Harry turned and gestured once with his hand, before he stepped into the cell, his eyes on the spot in front of it as he hissed, "Your time has come: did they buy it?"

Before him, a pair of hooded figures kneeled to him before they answered, "They did _mon petit maitre_."

"And…what is your answer?" asked Harry, smiling as he felt two distinct magical influences reach out towards him; the owners of that magic knew that it wouldn't work against him, but they had sworn to be his in every sense of the word, so, here they were.

Lowering their hoods, the two figures smiled at Harry before they bowed their heads;

"We swear our, 'ow you say, allegiance to you Maitre 'Arry," Fleur Delacour replied.

"We will join your Knights," Gabrielle Delacour added, both of them bowing low to the man, the warrior, the prince that, a long while ago, they had chosen to call their Master.

**Chapter 22 and I bet no-one saw THAT coming: Fleur's alive and she and Gabby are on Harry's side: how and why are the two French witches now Imperial Knights?**

**Also, with the truth known, will Harry still allow his Father to take back the dark soul that dwells within the Dark Prince?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: How is Fleur alive when we're sure Harry killed her? All is revealed; plus, Tom and Harry perform the ritual to reabsorb the Horcrux, but, when the end result is revealed, a dark future is set in stone and a Prince becomes a King; also, with his return to Hogwarts on the horizon, Harry decides to, I believe the term is, 'double date' with Draco and Ginny; can the Dark Prince allow his light to show to his friends?**

**Please Read and Review…**


	23. Episode 23

Eye Of The Storm

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Normal Speech

'Thought'

{Mind Link}

"**Demonised Voice**"

"_**Force Manipulation**_"

"_Statement: HK-47 Speaking_"

/Parseltongue/

**Key Pairings: **Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Neville/Daphne

**Side Pairings: **Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

Episode 23: Revenge of the Sith

Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour both looked to their new Master, both of them filled with a sense of fear and actual intimidation as they watched him, while Harry, watching the two young Veela-blooded witches, felt only pride and a sense of completion: the wizarding world was so fickle that they'd believe anything these days.

When the green light had been the last thing seen by Fleur Delacour, it didn't mean that it had been the _real_ Fleur; no, the same trick had worked again thanks to Harry performing his duties and killing not Fleur Delacour, but a broken, treacherous man by the name of Igor Karkaroff: now yes, Harry knew that Polyjuice Potion _shouldn't_ have worked, but he wasn't the Heir of the Sith for nothing.

No, Fleur and Gabrielle's alliances had come by him a long time before that:

_Flashback Start_

With confidence in his stride, Harry walked towards the Chamber of Secrets, his eyes filled with strength and promise as he considered everything that had happened: his Father's plans were going ahead exactly as he had hoped. Now Harry was the Fourth Triwizard Champion, he would have the means to meet with his family and continue with his plans towards the Ultimate Darkness that would make _him_ the ruler of the Dark Side.

Turning a corner, Harry's smile of success suddenly turned into a look of confusion as he saw the Beauxbatons Champion, Fleur Delacour, holding a younger girl in her arms, both of them crying; narrowing his eyes, Harry approached cautiously as he asked, "Mademoiselle Delacour, are you all right?"

"Yes," Fleur answered, looking up to the owner of the voice; when she saw Harry there, she gasped before she added, "Oh, Monsieur Potter; it iz only you: I am sorry; I was just…"

"Scared?" asked Harry, looking to the two, a note of realisation ringing in his ears as he added, "Sister?"

"Yes," Fleur answered, "Zis is my leetle sister; Gabrielle: she iz all I 'ave 'ere at 'Ogwarts: our parents are, 'ow you say, important members of ze French Ministry and cannot be 'ere for ze Tournament: now I 'ave been chosen as ze Beauxbatons Champion, I am very much scared."

"I think I can understand why," Harry told her, sitting down next to his opponent in the trials ahead, "This Tournament has cost many people many things, including their lives and you do not want to leave Gabrielle alone, yes?"

"You are smarter than you let on Monsieur Potter," Gabrielle commented; she had a light-hearted voice that had Harry smiling: in a way, the little girl was almost…cute. "My big sister 'as to be strong for ze trials ahead, but, to answer your question, oui; she iz afraid to leave me alone."

"You shouldn't be," Harry told her, suddenly looking to both of the witches, "Because I can guarantee that you will make it through to the end and be able to see your sister again…both of you."

"Ow can you promise zis?" asked Fleur, "You are just one boy."

"Oh Mademoiselle," Harry sniggered, allowing his Force power to come out, his eyes changing to the flash of gold that accompanied his darker persona, "I'm a _lot more_ than just one boy: I have the kind of resources and power to see that there is only one champion at the end of this: me; however, if you agree to my terms, I can guarantee your family's safety now and forever."

"Ow would we do zat?" asked Gabrielle.

"Join me," Harry told them, extending his hand, "And with your vows of secrecy, I will tell you everything."

_Flashback End_

And Harry had told them everything: Fleur and Gabrielle were stunned at first, but, to aid them along, Harry used his Domination power to ensure that neither of them remembered their allegiance until the time was right; when he'd _died_, their blocks had been released and, with help from the Dark Knights and his loyal friends in Hogwarts, Harry was able to get a hold of Fleur and Gabrielle, bring them to safety, work the old switcheroo and keep them within his Manor.

Now, standing before them, Harry gave another smile before he addressed them, "Have you been hurt while you were here?"

"No Master Riddle," Gabrielle answered; during her time with Harry, she had undergone what Fleur called her Veela transformation and now a young, but still attractive, teenage girl stood before him, her silver hair and soft eyes showing Harry that the Gabrielle he'd thought to be cute was still there. "Your _maison_ iz very, 'ow you say, enchanting and we 'ave been waiting for you to see us."

"I apologise for keeping you here so long," Harry told them, "But I want you to know that the time that we discussed has finally come: do I still have your alliance after this is done?"

"You 'elped save my sister from ze dangers of ze Tournament," Gabrielle told him, before she approached him and wrapped her arms around his armoured waist, almost like a little sister. "You 'ave our alliance to ze end of your conquest."

"Then I give you both leave to return to your homes," Harry told them, "Your parents will need some convincing but, if they cannot accept who you have become, then know that this house will always be here for you to call home: I'm sorry that you had to play along for the charade to work Gabrielle."

"I do not mind," Gabrielle replied, "My sister and I owe you everything we 'ave become Master 'Arry: we stand wiz you forever."

"I have to go now," Harry told her, "Take care and, if you need to come back, then let me know immediately."

Both Delacours bowed their heads to him before Harry, activating two Portkeys he had used to take them away in the first place, sent the next additions to his dark alliance on their way home…

It wasn't much later that they returned, their faces and bodies streaked in blood, Fleur's face now an example of darkness perfected while little Gabrielle was in tears and sought the comfort of her quote-unquote new brother.

Harry was more than willing to let her tears be the catalysts for his plan to move ahead: the time was right…

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

'Destiny has such a funny sense of humour.'

So thought Harry Riddle as he stood in a ceremonial circle, his Father standing opposite him, both of them holding onto what appeared to be a pair of Blood Blades, Bellatrix, Hermione and Severus gathered around the outer edge of the circle as Father and son looked to one another, Tom giving Harry a rare smile, which the Dark Prince actually returned.

"I know that this is probably the last thing you wanted to do on your birthday," Tom explained to his son, "But the sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can be a family again."

"I couldn't agree more Father," Harry replied, looking to his Mother and, between them, sharing a smile of hope and wonder: on one point, the Dark Lord was right: severing his soul on the anniversary of his birth, the anniversary of his anointing as Darth Giudizio, was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Are you ready?" asked Tom, "This _will_ hurt."

"I know," Harry replied, already moving to strip off his robe, exposing his pale, darkly-empowered body, his eyes filled with hope, "If it helps you Father, then I am prepared."

"Then let us begin," Tom remarked, pointing the tip of his blade at Harry's heart, before, with swift movements, he began to carve runes into his son's chest: the runes for _life, death _and _power_ soon adorned the area around Harry's heart while, at the same time, Harry had to carve the runes for _unity, soul_ and _mind_ into his Father's chest.

Once they were done, the two Sith warriors lay their weapons at their sides, before Tom took Harry's hand and placed it on the runes, Harry following suit with his Father; clearing his throat, Tom began to speak in Parseltongue, his words understood by Harry alone, /Let the soul that is tainted by the unknown now be cleansed; let the forces of light be driven into darkness; by the will of Salazar Slytherin, I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, recall what once was lost: release!/

Harry actually cried out as he felt his mind, body and very soul being torn apart, the blood that was now dripping from the carved runes suddenly turning black, a mysterious mist rising from every pore on his body; struggling to stay upright, the Heir of the Sith fulfilled his part, /I, the Lord of Slytherin, recognise your power and ask you: do you hold regret for the death caused to create such an abomination?/

/I…do,/ Tom gasped, his own blood now pooling around his and Harry's feet, the black mist seemingly extending towards the body of the Dark Lord as he hissed, /Were there another way, I would not have mutilated my soul in such a way that I cursed my own son to his nightmares: I pray that the forces of darkness forgive me; I pray that Salazar forgives me; I pray that my son, the vessel of the Horcrux, forgives me for what I have done./

/I do Father,/ Harry replied, /And I willingly return to you what once was lost./

With two cries of pain, Tom and Harry felt their souls divide before they united again, Harry's body seemingly being drained of power while Tom appeared to get stronger; then, as the Dark Lord had expected, Harry also began to glow as his true power was unleashed, his magical will moulding to the power of the Force and healing his wounds.

That was when it happened: Tom suddenly clutched at his heart, dropping to his knees while Harry stayed standing: at his sides, the Dark Lord gasped as he saw other soul pieces, represented by clouds of black mist, forming all around him, all of them now linking their tendrils not to Tom, but to Harry.

"Harry?" asked Tom, trying to speak through the driving pain in his chest, "What…what are you…"

Then he heard it: feverish chanting coming from all around him: "_Animae damnatorum spiritus malos ferre potes cognoscere malum et verum est enim magister vester, qui cudebat desere teque ad tui sceleris gerens; Qui finxit dolor sit scire et nosse eum qui potestatem habebat, una cum magistri et resurgere!_"

"H-Harry?" gasped Tom, hearing the feverish chanting now also being spoken by his son; looking to the Sith Prince, Tom heard it before he felt it: the hiss of a lightsabre followed by a driving pain through his heart; looking into the eyes of the Sith Prince, Tom saw only blackness.

"I hope you can still hear me," Harry told him, "Because I want you to know the name of your true destroyer: I, Harry Salazar Revan Riddle, took your life and ended your legacy. I would have gladly let you live and shared in your power…but," he seemed to raise his spare hand and curl four of his fingers until his index finger stood straight, as if making a point. "No Father, no matter their past, present or future, tries to kill their own son: you left me in hell and condemned me to a life where I didn't have any power. What?" he then asked, a cold smile crossing his face as he noticed the stunned look in the eyes of the now dying Dark Lord, "Did you think I'd forgive you so easily? That I'd come back to you and play happy families so you could rule over everything? Over me: no Voldemort; I was not going to allow that: the Sith, the Dark Side, the Empire, it all belongs to me now."

"My…anchors," gasped Tom.

"Ah," laughed Harry, "Yes, your Horcruxes: now we get to the brunt of the matter: you see _Dad_, I knew about your soul piece for a very long time now; I also knew about Mother being alive and Severus being my ally for a very long time. Would you like to know when this happened?"

"H…Harry…" Tom gasped, "I…I l-l-love you…son…"

"Tom," sighed Harry, "That was what made it so easy to fool you: I _never_ accepted that I was your son: Mother's, yes, but not yours: right from the start, this was my _real_ plan: to become the one, true Heir of Darth Revan and rule as the Dark Prince, soon to be King. Now, I ask again, before you die, would you like to know how I did it?"

"You may as well tell him little snake," Bella laughed, Harry growing stronger with her tone of voice, "He deserves to know."

"All right," Harry answered, now looking over to his Mother as he asked, "When did you remember?"

"R…r…remember?" asked Tom, his blood now pooling even faster as the lightsabre, black in image and black in death, still protruded from his heart.

"That's right Tom," Bella replied, now stepping into the circle, Hermione moving to her lover's other side as they faced the dying darkness, "My little snake paid me a visit long before we actually escaped: it was, ironically, the night he _lost_ me: Halloween: when Harry was discovered to be the Fourth Champion, he used his power and came to Azkaban: thanks to his mastery over the Force, we had a nice long chat and then, at the end of it, he made me forget until the time was right, which, by the way, was the day you rescued me Harry."

"And all the while," Harry added, "Right from the moment I gave him my little message back in September, Severus has been helping me prepare for this moment: if you'll permit me Dad, I'll translate the spell: _Soul of the damned, spirit of the evil, submit your power to the true evil and recognise your master for who he is; forsake that who forged you and return to he who bears your evil; Let he who forged you know your pain and let he who held you know your power; become one with your new master and rise again; _in other words, you don't have any anchors anymore: I have them all: all your powers, all your legacies and all your strengths. All you have left, murderer who I will _never_ call my Father, is the cold grasp of death: if you had only seen me from the start, you wouldn't have to die, but, sadly, you do: rest…in…_peace!_"

On the last word, Harry pulled the sabre from Tom Riddle's heart, the Dark Lord falling to the ground, dead as a doornail, leaving the Dark Prince to turn to his Mother, who bowed low to him, Hermione and Severus following suit as the Dark Lady asked, "What do you command my Lord Giudizio?"

"What my predecessor could not," Harry answered her, "The second coming of the Sith Empire…"

_**EyeOfTheStorm**_

_**AN: I wrote this next bit while listening to 'King of Kings' by Motorhead (Triple H's alternate theme) it seems to fit;**_

That was seven years ago;

Now, Harry Salazar Revan Black – he gave up his old name after his Father's death – walked down the corridor towards the viewing platform that overlooked his empire, his mind taking in how things had changed for the world since the death of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

It had taken all of three weeks for Darth Giudizio to be known throughout the world: first came the rather enjoyable death of Barty Crouch Senior and Harry's first official victim, Percy Weasley: this sent a message to the Minister, especially when Percy was found stripped of his flesh, his skeleton hanging like some dark effigy.

Next came the Minister's right-hand woman, Dolores Umbridge: Harry chuckled to himself as he could still hear her screams and pleas for mercy: seeing two deaths in the world, Darth Giudizio had revealed himself and challenged the light outright. Knowing he needed allies and warriors, he had travelled to Revanchist Isle and Malachor Castle: what he had found was a slaughter…at his hands. Both places were riddled with Light Side, alias Jedi, memories that Harry burned to the ground, the remnants of the Shadow Legions swearing their allegiance to him instantly.

Next came Harry's favourite death: the traitor known as Ron Weasley; at Harry's hand, he tasted death and saw his own life ended by Sith magic and the power of the Dark Side. What made it even sweeter was how the rest of the family had watched while Fred, George and Ginny torched their homes, Harry finding that Ragnok's earlier assumptions about Bill proved true. The goblin worker joined the Sith Order on the day of his brother Percy's death, his life and servitude sworn to the Heir and newly risen Lord of the Sith Empire.

After the obstacles in Harry's path were out of his way, it left two main targets: Cornelius Fudge for allowing Sirius to be incaracerated, which, in turn, led to his death and Albus Dumbledore for believing he could use and abuse Harry's power.

Fudge attempted a cease-fire and a surrender to the power of Darth Giudizio, now known through the world as Lord Giudizio, but he only found himself bowing down to the Sith King, before the entire world witnessed his execution as Harry torched him with Sith Lightning, disembowelled him with his sabre and, for added emphasis, fed his corpse to the dragon he had released during the Tournament.

That left just one target: Dumbledore and he didn't go down easily: Harry learned of a band known as the Order of the Phoenix who soon became the Order of the Wyvern as they realised who held the power; Harry spun a web of lies and told them _he_ was the murderer of their saviour, Harry Potter; this was evidence enough, especially when he provided an _altered_ memory of the death of Lord Voldemort.

The entire Order, which was now led by Mandalore, Draco, Ginny and Remus, swore their allegiances and vowed to serve their new Lord in everything they did: Dumbledore, as ordered by the new Minister, Lucius Malfoy, was cast out of Hogwarts and replaced by the Sith Lord himself when he graduated: in the meantime, Severus was in charge.

When he graduated, it was with the highest marks in the known history of Hogwarts: becoming High Master of Hogwarts, Harry transformed Hogwarts into the first brand new Sith Sorcerer's Academy and renamed it the Star Forge Academy, after the place where Revan had come back to power. This just left Dumbledore and, on the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Harry met him face to face.

Spells, Force Powers, potions, curses and all manner of magic flew between the two until Harry, severing both Dumbledore's wrists, broke his connection to the magic and, with the old man begging for mercy, shook his head coldly before he revealed his darkest secret: "Guess who Dumbledore? You shouldn't have killed Sirius."

Harry's name was the last word spoken by Dumbledore and, as he wandered out onto the viewpoint, Harry could still hear the submissive cheers of the witches and wizards at the Academy; he could still smell Dumbledore's charred corpse rotting away; he could feel Hermione's _reward_ for their final victory and, above all, he could actually still sense the presence of the one who had started him down this path.

Yes, Harry had delved into the Force and found that he could call on the souls of the departed, though he limited it to Lily, James and Sirius, all of whom became a dark order of haunting spies that watched every corner of the rebuilt Sith Empire, now known simply as the Empire of the Dark Sun.

On his nineteenth birthday, Harry had proposed to Hermione and they had been married, before taking their domination global: Sith Academies replaced magical schools, small factions of resistance were met with death and Harry became the Grand Sorcerer of the International Order, in other words: King of Kings; King of the World.

All of Earth bowed before the will of Darth Giudizio and, as he wandered out onto the edge of the viewpoint, Hermione now standing at his right-hand while on his left were Ferrox, now christened Darth Revan II, as well as Draco, who had also willingly submitted to the power of the force, turning him into Darth Dracula, the Vampire of the Sith – as he was known to their enemies – the Sith Lord gave a smile, before he looked to his queen, a soft smile crossing his face as he nodded once.

Approaching the edge of the viewpoint, Hermione looked with her husband out over the sea of heads, bodies and mounted weapons that were the main force of their Empire, their warriors eagerly waiting for their Master's commands;

"The Light Side have fallen: the Jedi are now remnants of a history that is forbidden by law; the magic has become anew and the world falls under one banner: all hail Darth Giudizio, the Supreme King of Darkness and Master of the Sith!"

As one, the followers beneath them all cried out, "Hail Lord Giudizio."

"Hail King Giudizio."

"He is the Power; He is the Dark; He is the Power; He is the Dark."

Watching her lover bask in his dark greatness, Hermione bowed to him before she spoke, "The Sith, the Dark Side and the world all bow before you: you have reclaimed the mantle and legacy of Darth Revan and made it anew; the Light is in tatters and you are finally where you belong: upon your rightful throne."

"You are right," Harry told her, his voice cold and deadly, but not so much that he still didn't feel love; turning to Hermione, Harry wrapped his arms around her, the Sith Queen tracing her hand over a scar that covered Harry's left eye – a remnant from his duel with Dumbledore – before the Sith King asked, "What could make this day better?"

"Well," Hermione answered, planting a kiss on Harry's lips before she took his hand and guided it down to her stomach, the eyes of the Sith King widening as he felt a small bump, a ripple of magic in the Force telling him enough, but it was Hermione who set the bar for their future:

"How does the Supreme King feel about becoming a Father?"

**THE END…AND THE BEGINNING!**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story; I'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, but it was either this or abandoning the story; I hope you all continue to review my works and, above all, I wish to thank YugiohFreak54 for creating the challenge and giving me the chance to write this amazing story;**

**Please Read and Review…**

**OC Ritual Spell;**

_**Animae damnatorum spiritus malos ferre potes cognoscere malum et verum est enim magister vester, qui cudebat desere teque ad tui sceleris gerens; Qui finxit dolor sit scire et nosse eum qui potestatem habebat, una cum magistri et resurgere: **Soul of the damned, spirit of the evil, submit your power to the true evil and recognise your master for who he is; forsake that who forged you and return to he who bears your evil; Let he who forged you know your pain and let he who held you know your power; become one with your new master and rise again_


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